


I'd Do Anything (for you)

by LadySlytherin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animal Sacrifice, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Stiles, Baker Stiles Stilinski, Blood Magic, Canon through 3B, Communication, Cora Hale Returns, Daddy Kink, Deputy Derek Hale, Derek Hale & Laura Hale Are Twins, Derek Hale Can Have Nice Things, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, First Date, First Kiss, Hellhound Jordan Parrish, Human Sacrifice, Jordan Parrish is Part of the Pack, M/M, Mage Stiles Stilinski, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Making Out, Marking, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Minor Character Death, Monster of the Week, Morally Ambiguous Stiles Stilinski, Murder, Nemeton, Peter Hale Feels, Pining, Post-Nogitsune, Praise Kink, Resurrection, Ritual Bleeding, Ritual Magic, Sacrifice, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) is a Failwolf, Secrets, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Derek/Stiles Relationship, Sheriff Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Spells & Enchantments, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Mates, but also very mild, but mild, grave desecration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2020-11-07 17:44:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 46,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20821298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySlytherin/pseuds/LadySlytherin
Summary: Nearly two years after being possessed by the Nogitsune, Stiles isstilltrying to get a handle on things. Away at college, he feels more stable; more settled. But at home in Beacon Hills for summer break after his Freshman year at UC Berkeley, he is once again plagued by nightmares.The thing is, Void left behind a thousand years worth of information in Stiles' head. Information that Stiles is slowly realizing can help undo some of the damage that was done to Beacon Hills.Between bodies once again turning up in Beacon Hills and an increasingly close relationship with Derek Hale, Stiles has a lot on his plate. Factor in a talking tree, a sacred duty to the land, and somedead/not-deaddrama, and Stiles is about to have oneHaleof a summer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tootsie2230](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tootsie2230/gifts), [xaveriix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaveriix/gifts).
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is _completed._ I'll be posting a chapter a week, until it's all up. I'll also be adding tags as I add chapters, so keep an eye on those for changes. This is my 25th TW fic, but my first chaptered piece in this fandom, so I'm hoping it's as well-loved as my one-shots have been.
> 
> A huge thank you to my pre-readers for helped me catch mistakes; any that remain are my own. And an extra-special thank you to tootsie2230 for all of the help with researching and being a sounding board while I was writing this. And to xaveriix for helping me decide where to make chapter divisions. You're both dolls and I appreciate it so much!
> 
> As ever, comments are love so pretty please leave me some. ❤️ 
> 
> ~ Sly

Stiles woke up with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. He was panting, and sweating, and shaking all over. He counted his blessings that he wasn’t screaming. Nights like this were less-common than they’d been in the wake of the Nogitsune’s possession at the start of his Senior year, but they still happened. After a year and a half, he was starting to think that maybe they always would. As he clicked on the lamp next to his bed and looked around his childhood bedroom, he had to admit that they were always more frequent when he was home; when he was near the Nemeton.

He picked up the notebook and pen he kept on the nightstand, quickly writing down the fast-fading words echoing through his mind. He’d spent months ignoring the things he remembered after waking up from nightmares about the Nogitsune. Months trying to forget everything that Void had put into his head and left there. Then, he’d gone away to college. The distance had helped. Missing what was left of the pack was nothing compared to being away from all of the painful memories Beacon Hills held. Stiles had felt like he was _finally_ starting to heal.

Then, he’d been sitting in the library and the girl next to him had been trying to translate a passage from a reference book. Without thought, Stiles had turned and told her what the words meant. Which wouldn’t have been a problem, except she’d been translating Japanese Kanji and Stiles _really_ shouldn’t have been able to assist. He’d been instantly terrified of what else Void might have left lying around in his head. Had _stayed_ terrified, right up until he’d made friends with some members of a local wolf pack while at UC Berkeley. Specifically Emeryville’s wolf pack, who had two of their younger pack members attending Berkeley and Stiles had shared classes with them both, and they’d become fast friends as soon as the wolves had realized that Stiles was_ in the know,_ as it were.

And having made friends with the wolves, it didn’t take long for Stiles to wind up smack dab in the middle of another supernatural hooplah. Except this time, a random piece of information about fairies had saved several lives. Information Stiles knew _he_ hadn't known. And yet, somehow, he _had_ known it. All because of the Nogitsune.

After that, he’d started trying to sort through the detritus Void had left behind in his mind. The trouble was, he couldn't seem to access those memories consciously. Seeing or hearing things could trigger memories or knowledge, but if he tried to look for something on purpose it was like trying to hold onto sand. The only time he’d realized he could recall things clearly - at least for a little while - was right after a nightmare. Which was why Stiles now slept with a notebook and pen right next to his bed. The Nogitsune had caused so much damage - so much death and pain - that it only seemed fair to get something good back from the experience.

Void had been over a thousand years old. He’d known things no one else did. Stiles had no intention of letting that knowledge go to waste. Already, he had learned more about why Void had chosen him, and what that spark of magic in his blood meant. What it made him capable of, with the right tools and spells and dedication. He’d proven himself an asset to the Emeryville pack, and earned himself an offer of a permanent place among them. He’d been honored, of course, but had ultimately said no.

His home was Beacon Hills. His pack...well, his pack was fractured and damaged, but they were still his pack. Stiles couldn't imagine joining another one. So when summer arrived, Stiles turned down a chance to study magic with their Emissary and headed home. He’d go back to taking the occasional lesson from her when he was at Berkeley for his second year in the fall, but summer break was for family, and pack, and _home._

“Orb...” Stiles muttered, rubbing his forehead as he tried to grab onto the rest of what had been floating around in his head when he’d first woken up. “Soul. Bind a soul? No, not bind. _Trap_ a soul. Hold it. Store it. Orb of...of...” Stiles groaned in frustration, then closed his eyes and forced himself to take slow, deep breaths.

As Stiles’ permanently busy mind settled, the name he’d been searching for was suddenly clear. “An Orb of Thesula. Perfect.” He wrote it down before he lost it again, adding a quick sketch of what the thing looked like before putting the notebook back.

Stiles wasn’t quite sure yet what he was going to do with the jigsaw pieces of information he was jotting down. He just had a feeling it was all gearing up to something.

He glanced at his alarm clock and groaned before shutting the lamp off. It was three am, which meant he’d only gotten about two hours of sleep so far. Since that was nowhere near enough, he laid back down and tried to will his restless mind back to sleep. He had only been home for a few days - less than a week - and this was the second time he had woken up with a nightmare. There really was no denying that proximity to the Nemeton made them worse.

Thinking about the random snippets of knowledge he’d collected, Stiles couldn't bring himself to mind. If the tradeoff for more information was less sleep, then so be it. Stiles had learned early that nothing came free, and he had a feeling this price would be more than worth it.

~*~*~*~

“Stiles!”

Stiles gasped, startling awake. He’d been screaming this time, he was sure of it. Partly because his throat hurt, but mostly because his father was holding him while he shook. “Sorry.” He told him, giving his dad an apologetic smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t. I was already awake.” Noah gave him a quick squeeze before releasing him. “I thought you’d stopped having these nightmares, kiddo.”

Stiles hummed as he reached for his notebook and pen. “Yeah, mostly. It’s always a little more often when I’m closer to the Nemeton.” He flipped to a clean page, then noticed that his dad was in uniform. “Did something happen? Why are you being called in?”

“Got a body. Not sure what’s going on yet, but I’ve got two deputies on payroll now who are full-on supernatural creatures. We’ve got this.” He kissed Stiles’ forehead and added. “Try to get some more sleep, okay? I’ll text you when I’ve got an idea about when I’ll be home.”

As Latin words filled his head, Stiles’ attention was drawn away from the potential mystery presented by a body in Beacon Hills. “Be safe, Dad.” He mumbled, uncapping his pen. “Bye.”

He was dimly aware of his dad watching him for a moment from the doorway, but the sheriff had a body to attend to and couldn't ask questions. _Yet._ Stiles imagined there would be a full-fledged inquisition at some point, but he’d worry about that later. For the moment, he was consumed by the words still filling his head. Everything else could wait.

“Obscurus...” He muttered while writing, then hastily scribbled it out. “No, _obscure.”_ His pen seemed to fly across the page as he recorded the words, occasionally talking out loud as his brain struggled to process a language he had only a passing familiarity with. “Nobiscum...”

Stiles rubbed his tired eyes with his left hand, his right finishing up the words his mouth was still saying, all but on autopilot. “Nos circita.”

He stopped writing, tapping the end of the pen restlessly against the page. He reread the entire sentence he’d written down, trying to parse meaning from it. A single word kept jumping out at Stiles, no matter how many times he read it. _‘Spiritus.’_ He flipped to the previous page, which showed the information on how to trap a soul within an artifact known as an Orb of Thesulah. He turned back to the incantation he’d just written down. They were related; he was sure of it, though he couldn't have said why. He didn’t know what more than two or three of the Latin words meant, but he was suddenly positive that it would summon a spirit.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do next. He’d been collecting little pieces of information since just after Christmas; usually only one a month and sometimes even less. And yet, in all of that time, none of them had ever been connected. He flipped to the page before the Orb of Thesulah - the first he’d written since being back in Beacon Hills for the summer - and stared at it. It detailed some of the ways a blood-to-blood ritual could be used.

To locate someone. To send a message. To strengthen a protection or healing spell. To bind the powers of someone; usually a child, for their own protection. _To strengthen a spell intended to call up and/or bind a spirit._

Once was an incident. Twice was a coincidence. Three times was a pattern.

Stiles wasn’t sure what it all meant, but he knew it had to be important. He considered the timeline. Nine days. Three related memories. The Nemeton was trying to tell him something. Stiles knew he maintained a connection with the tree after his sacrifice. Allison’s connection had been severed even before her death, and Scott had cut his when he’d achieved True Alpha status, but Stiles was different. Even away at Berkeley, he had been able to feel the Nemeton’s call. He had no doubt this was a message, and that it was a matter of some urgency. He needed _answers._

Glancing at the clock, Stiles groaned and flopped back onto the bed. He needed answers, absolutely, but first he needed more _sleep. _If living in Beacon Hills had taught him anything, it was that traipsing through the woods to convene with a magical tree - stump or otherwise - wasn’t something you did at three am, so..._sunrise._ He’d wait until sunrise, at least.

As he reached for the lamp, he realized that at least his last two nightmares had both been at around three in the morning. He took a moment to scribble that time down on the next blank page for later consideration. Then he flipped off the lamp and laid down to try for a few more hours of sleep.

~*~*~*~

Stiles greeted the sun while standing at the edge of the Preserve, triple-checking his hiking backpack. Gone were the days when he rushed in unprepared and unarmed. He'd learned that lesson the hard way, many times over. When he hadn't been able to fall back asleep, he’d showered and dressed, eaten breakfast, and gotten his bag ready to go. He had snacks, water, a first-aid kit, a flashlight with three extra sets of batteries, paracord, and a veritable arsenal. Vials of mountain ash. A knife coated in mistletoe. An iron crowbar. A handgun with wolfsbane bullets. And, thanks to his recent lessons with the Berkeley pack’s Emissary, a small array of potions ranging from healing to diversionary to offensive.

He hefted the backpack, setting it on his shoulders, then grabbed the walking stick he'd made - with a little help from his college friends - after the fairy incident at Berkeley. It was carved from rowan and wrapped with a flat strip of iron that climbed the length of it in a spiral. Both the wood and the iron were etched with runes and spellwork and Stiles could kick some serious ass with it, when necessary. He was hoping he wouldn't need it today but, with the Preserve, it was always better safe than sorry.

He closed up the Jeep and headed into the trees, following the trail. In truth, he didn't need to - could probably reach the Nemeton faster by cutting through the woods - but he didn't mind taking the extra time. Stiles could feel the Nemeton, and he knew it could feel him, too. Better to let himself fall into that connection slowly as he approached. If it snapped into place too fast, it could easily overwhelm him and make it impossible to get what he needed. The Nemeton held a certain level of sentience, but that didn't mean it understood Stiles limits.

No, it was best if he took every precaution possible so he could guide their interaction. The last thing he wanted was to have to do this twice because of an incomplete message.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow; I can't believe how much love Chapter One of this has gotten! I hope you all enjoy Chapter Two just as much. As you can see, this is going up on a Friday, and - barring unforeseen circumstances - all future chapters will also be going up on Fridays.
> 
> This chapter will provide you with some answers...and a lot more questions. I'd apologize, but seeing you guys guess is half the fun for me. ^_^
> 
> Don't forget to leave me some love via comments; they positively make my day!
> 
> ~ Sly

Derek stood on the edge of the clearing that held the remains of the Nemeton, staring at what was, quite possibly, the oddest thing he'd ever seen in the Preserve. Which was really saying something, all things considered.

Stiles was lying on top of the Nemeton. His eyes were closed, his arms and legs were stretched out so he looked like a starfish, and his breathing was deep and even, as though he were sleeping. On the ground beside the tree stump was a hiker's pack, a pair of well-worn sneakers, and Stiles’ _clothes. _The only thing Stiles was wearing was a pair of black boxers with the Batman logo emblazoned across the front. Derek didn't think he'd ever even seen Stiles without a shirt before, so the sight of so much pale, mole-dotted skin was a little overwhelming. Laid across a stomach that had far more definition than Derek would have suspected was what seemed to be a staff.

Derek wasn't sure when Stiles had gotten a _staff. _He also wasn't sure what Stiles might do with the staff, which was humming faintly with magic, because the last time Derek had checked, Stiles wasn't magical. In truth the only magic he'd ever seen_ Stiles _do - as opposed to the Nogitsune - had been manipulating mountain ash. And in the wake of the Nogitsune, Stiles had started avoiding even that.

Derek wondered when that had changed. He wondered_ why_ it had changed. And he wondered what else had changed.

“Still a creeper wolf, eh, Derek?”

Derek startled a little, because Stiles hadn't betrayed his awareness of him at all. The younger man's eyes were still closed, his breathing was still deep and even, and his heartbeat was at a steady, resting rate. If he hadn't spoken, Derek would have sworn Stiles was asleep. It was a little unnerving, actually.

“Wasn't creeping.” He said gruffly, in part because he wasn't sure how to respond to this new version of Stiles. “I was just on my morning run.”

“Mhmm.” Stiles sat up in a slow, controlled curl, his hands wrapping around either end of the staff as he did. His whiskey-colored eyes opened and Derek sucked in a startled breath at the way they were glowing. “You've been checking on the Nemeton a lot lately.”

“It's a beacon.” Derek explained, not sure why he was doing that rather than demanding answers from Stiles about his odd behavior and glowing eyes. "Keeping an eye on the thing seemed prudent, considering.”

“Alluria's grateful.” Stiles said, reaching down and grabbing the bag. He lifted it onto the stump with him, folding his legs in front of himself at the same time. He unzipped it, glancing up at Derek with those glowing eyes. "You hungry? Thirsty?”

“No.” Derek took a cautious step closer. "Who's Alluria?”

“Hmmm?” Stiles looked back up, a notebook and pen now in his hands, fetched from the recesses of his bag. Then he laughed and patted the tree stump with one hand. "Oh, sorry. Derek Hale, meet our resident Nemeton, Alluria. Alluria, of course, already knows you. And she's pleased a Hale is once again looking after her.”

“The Nemeton has a name?” Derek wasn't quite sure how to take that. He frowned, watching as Stiles open the notebook and started writing. "What are you doing?”

Stiles shot him a quick, amused smile. “All magical things have names, Derek.” He went back to writing as he spoke. "And I...am taking notes. Void left information in my head and I've been collecting it for the last six months or so. Alluria’s helping.”

Derek didn't really like the sound of that. “Is that safe?”

Stiles shrugged, still writing. "Alluria seems to think so. And I'd rather get the information this way, with her helping, than in little pieces after screaming myself awake.” He paused in his writing to raise an eyebrow at Derek. “Did you need something? Cause if not, I'm a little busy here.”

“You're trusting a tree.” Derek snapped, partly because he was concerned and partly because he didn't like being dismissed. "Did you know your eyes are glowing?”

“Yeah, they do that.” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Derek, you need to relax. I've been practicing magic for months. I'm fine. If anything concerning comes up, I'll let everyone know.”

Derek still didn't like this. It felt wrong, the way Stiles was sitting almost naked in the forest, talking to a _tree._ “You mean something concerning like a human with glowing eyes talking to a tree that has a history of demanding blood sacrifices?”

Stiles slammed his notebook closed and glared at Derek. "Alluria didn't_ demand_ anything. She didn't even_ ask. _You fed her on your own, however unintentionally, and woke her up. Then the Darach offered more sacrifices. Again, all on her own. Don't blame Alluria for the actions of others.”

Derek opened his mouth, but Stiles cut him off. "Besides that, it was always the charge of the Hales to protect the Nemeton. Alluria should never have been cut down. Someone from _your family_ failed her. You can't blame her for taking what others offered to keep herself alive.”

The runes and spell work on Stiles’ staff glowed faintly, the same golden color as the teen’s eyes. “Now, I have work to do. You can leave me to it, or I can make you go. I'll leave it to you how we do this.”

Derek wanted to argue the point - wanted to argue several of them, actually - but he wasn't sure how good Stiles was with that staff. He also wasn't sure what kind of connection there was between Stiles and the Nemeton. Better, he decided, to retreat and gather reinforcements. He could fill the others in on what he'd seen and they could go from there. With that thought in mind, he turned away from Stiles and went back to his run.

~*~*~*~

Stiles watched Derek leave, his eyes drawn to the rippling muscles of the beta werewolf’s back and the triskelion inked there. He gasped, doubling over around his staff as images assailed his mind. Alluria when she was young - newly planted - and the Native people who cared for her and offered her tributes and sacrifices. People dressed in animal skins, who could also take the form of wolves. Alluria as she grew, when the Native people mixed with the homesteaders and frontiersmen who came to settle there, and who continued to care for her. Wolves; still wolves; always wolves. Alluria had drawn others to the area - one such as her would always call to others, because like attracts like - but the Wolves protected Alluria and she, in turn, protected them.

Tears ran down Stiles’ cheeks as images flashed past his eyes of Alluria being cut down and the way she had cried out to her protectors. They had failed her. She had fallen into a deep sleep, clinging desperately to what little magic she had left. Then, Derek. Paige. Blood, and sacrifice, and grief. She had awoken, and been grateful to the Hale who had given her a bit of strength. Still, in her absence there had been damage done to the magic that had held the territory for so long.The Hales - wolves; it was forever wolves - no longer had a solid claim on the land. Alluria longed to help, but she was weak.

When Julia had reached out for help, Alluria had responded in the hopes that the Druid would be able to help her grow strong. But it took too long. Years passed, and Alluria could only watch as the pack that had belonged to her - as they belong to the land, and she to them - broke apart. As it did, Alluria lost her own connections to the wolves that were left. The land cried out, desperate for an anchor to help stabilize it, but there was no answer.

Then, at last, Julia's return. She had fed power back into Alluria, and then so had Allison and Scott and Stiles himself. Alluria had reached for those connections, as eager for an anchor as the land, and all of them had suffered because they didn't know how to handle it. He felt her remorse over that; over the pain she'd caused the three of them. Then, one by one, those tethers had snapped. Allison had no magic to support such a bond, so it had faded. Scott had been made a werewolf by the bite of a Hale Alpha and, though he'd refused to join the Hale pack, Alluria had cherished the link to him because betas could always return to the pack that had made them. Then Scott had become a True Alpha and it had acted like a guillotine on their connection. Scott could no longer be a member of the Hale pack, because he was an alpha in his own right...and no Hale Alpha existed.

She had felt the loss keenly and had clung harder to the only remaining bond. The one she shared with Stiles. In her grief and fervor, she had accidentally unleashed the Nogitsune on him. She regretted that as well, though - like Stiles - she had come to see the good that could come from the knowledge he’d left behind. Knowledge Alluria wanted him to use, to help everyone. To stabilize her magic, and the land, and the pack that was meant to watch over them both.

Stiles dried his cheeks and patted the stump beneath him lightly. "Of course I'll help. Of course.” He picked up his notebook and pen, adding. "Just show me what I need to know. What I have to do.”

Information started to trickle into his awareness as Alluria helped pluck the necessary memories from wherever they were hiding and set them at the front of his mind. He wrote as fast as he could, absorbing Alluria thoughts and feelings on everything at the same time. The more she gave him, the better he understood what she wanted from him. What, exactly, she wanted him to do. And it was crazy, obviously. It was impossible, and dangerous, and required magic dark enough that it gave Stiles pause. But the payoff if it worked...well now, it would be worth it. Beacon Hills would be safe and stable once more. That was worth almost any price.

As he continued writing down everything he needed to know, part of his brain had him jotting down additional notes. Preliminary ideas on how to get what he needed. It wouldn't be easy, but he had no doubts now about trying.

Alluria sent happiness and gratitude flooding along their bond and Stiles wondered how Deaton would respond to being usurped as emissary. Alluria just laughed. She had little use for Druids and all their limitations. Stiles was a spark and it was only one like him who could do what needed to be done. Deaton would simply have to adjust. Considering how much Stiles disliked the cryptic veterinarian, he was okay with Alluria's assessment.

_‘You'll be mine, little Spark. Mine, and the land’s, and the wolves’. And we, in turn, will all belong to you.’_

Stiles smiled as he put away his notes and got dressed, preparing to leave. He knew some of the others feared the Nemeton, but Stiles no longer did. "I'll protect you.” He promised her, as the wolves who had planted her so long ago had once done. "I won't fail you.”

Alluria let him know she believed him with an intense wave of what Stiles could only describe as_ love._ And really, that sealed it for him. Nothing capable of feeling such a strong, positive emotion could be evil. Alluria wasn't the problem with Beacon Hills; her_ destruction_ was. She was the solution.

Before heading out of the clearing, Stiles pushed a bit of healing magic into Alluria, though he wasn't sure how much it would help. Not yet, anyway. Then he started the long hike back to the Jeep, his mind still turning things over as he walked. He had a lot of work to do.

~*~*~*~

Derek wasn't quite a member of Scott's pack, but he was close enough to it that he didn't feel like an omega. It was far from ideal but he hadn't had a lot of options. Still, contacting Scott because of Stiles’ behavior wasn't something he was comfortable with. Instead, he went to Noah. Of course, sitting in his boss's office for the express purpose of telling on the man's son wasn't really high on Derek's list of stuff he wanted to do, but he was too concerned to do nothing. Beacon Hills had trouble too often for such a small town, and it was supernatural in origin more often than not. Derek had been raised on stories of the Nemeton and what it was capable of, and he simply didn't trust it.

He found it hard to believe that anyone other than a Disney princess could be convinced to trust a talking tree, actually.

“So, Derek. What did you want to talk about?” Noah gave him the easy, affectionate smile that he reserved for those he cared about. Derek had worked hard to earn that particular look. Then Noah's face got serious as he asked. "Is it about the body from last night?”

“No. At least, I don't think so.” Derek sighed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He’d pulled a double and had been ordered to go home and sleep, but he’d wanted to do his normal morning run and check the territory first. And now, after seeing Stiles, he was right back at work.

“You're going to have to give me more than that.”

Derek nodded. "I know. I'm just still trying to figure it out myself. I don't think it's related to the body, but I'm hesitant to dismiss the possibility.” He shot Noah a weary look, then decided to just say it.

Quick, like ripping off a bandaid.

“I saw Stiles in the woods.”

Noah said nothing - only raised his eyebrows at him - so Derek continued. “He was damn near naked and at the Nemeton. His eyes were glowing and he said he's been using magic for months. He also said he was talking to the Nemeton. Called it Alluria. I don't like the idea of that tree talking to_ anyone,_ but especially not Stiles.”

Noah looked worried now. “He's been having nightmares again. Said being near the Nemeton makes them worse. And I knew he was practicing magic.” He admitted, and now he just looked and sounded tired. “He told me that months ago, when he started studying with the wolves he met at Berkeley. I was actually glad. Figured he deserved a way to defend himself.”

“I don't disagree with that.” Derek really didn't. Stiles had saved everyone's asses more than once with nothing more than bravado, stubbornness, and quick thinking... and, occasionally, his trusty wooden baseball bat. If he wanted a way to_ really_ fight back when shit got bad, Derek figured that was fair. “But the last time the Nemeton got a hook into Stiles, he wound up possessed. We've got one body already and a tree that's way more chatty than I knew was even possible. It's got me worried.”

“Fair enough.” Noah considered Derek for a moment before continuing. "For now, I think we should just keep an eye on things. Work the case. Watch Stiles for odd behaviors. Maybe keep a close eye on that damned tree. But I don't think we should tip Stiles off about our concern. Because if you're right...”

Derek blew out of sharp breath, nodding. "If I'm right, then tipping off Stiles means tipping off the Nemeton. And if it's controlling him, that could go south fast.”

“Exactly.” Noah leveled him with a sharp look. "Scott can't keep a secret from Stiles worth a damn, so he can't know, either. Lydia can be an asset, though, and I'll put Jordan in the loop, too.”

“Malia can keep a secret, too.” Derek added. "I think the more eyes we have on the situation, the better.”

“All right. I'll let you take the lead here.” Noah gesture to the door. "Go home and get some sleep now, son. You're no good to anyone if you're dead on your feet.”

As Derek left the station and headed back to the loft, he started making plans to spend as much time with Stiles as he could. Purely for the sake of keeping an eye on him, of course. And if the last thing Derek thought about after crawling into bed, right before he fell asleep, was the sight of Stiles’ lean, surprisingly muscled body spread out across the Nemeton like a sacrifice on a pagan altar, it was only because he was concerned.

Right. That was his story, anyway, and he was sticking to it. Not that anyone had asked.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll!
> 
> So, here's chapter three. Sorry it's so damned late in the day; I had a bunch of crap going on today that resulted in me not being able to post until now.
> 
> Please note that there's some new tags accompanying this chapter! I hope you guys enjoy the third installment of _'I'd Do Anything'_ just as much as you enjoyed the first two. ^_^ I had a lot of fun with this chapter and I'm eager to see your reactions.
> 
> Remember that comments are love and please leave me some below. ❤️
> 
> ~ Sly

Stiles had been home from college for two weeks. He visited the Nemeton on his tenth day back, then he'd been busy working on some of the details for their plan. He also found his time being monopolized by his friends. Which wasn't a bad thing. It was just a little outside the bounds of_ normal._ Lydia and Malia were normally busy with their own lives, so the sudden and unexpected availability was a little suspicious. Stiles wondered what it said about his life that he was so quick to suspect his friends of ulterior motives. Probably nothing good.

Pushing the thought aside, Stiles entered the Nemeton’s clearing. Smiling, he approached the tree. “Hey, Alluria.” She sent a wave of welcome back. Stiles knew he didn't need to speak to communicate with her, but he liked talking out loud. "How are you feeling?”

He got a few things back from her. Hope. A longing for all that had been lost since she was cut down. Gratitude and love for Stiles and all he'd committed to. And a newfound strength, because of their growing bond.

“Good, good.” Stiles laid his palm in the center of the stump, his other hand curled around his staff. It started to glow and he knew his eyes were as well. He pushed with his spark, using it to pull power from the land around them. The land Alluria's roots ran deep through; the land that had given her life so long ago. He didn't siphon much, because their bonds - his and Alluria's and the land’s - were still weak; still forming. He didn't want to risk damaging them.

But he took a little because he knew it would help. It would help Alluria to heal, and - if done carefully - it would strengthen his ties to them both, and their ties to each other.

A faint tickle against his palm drew Stiles’ attention. He stopped the healing spell he'd been doing and lifted his palm to look down at the stump. There, in the center, was a tiny green shoot. It was only an inch high, with two tiny leaves of the palest green. It was small, and fragile, and the most amazing thing he'd ever seen._ New growth._

Alluria stretched beneath him, preening, and the little leaves turned slightly to better catch the sun. Stiles laughed and lightly stroked one tiny leaf with the tip of a finger. "Yeah, I know. You're beautiful.”

He turned, suddenly aware of someone approaching. Without stopping to think, he threw up a quick glamour to hide Alluria’s new growth. He didn't know who was coming, but he’d promised he would protect her and it was almost an instinct to do so. She was vulnerable right now. Weak, and struggling to heal from unimaginable damage. Until she was stronger - strong enough to defend herself - he didn't want anyone to know what was happening.

When Derek appeared, Alluria told him he could tell the beta, but Stiles silently told her to hush and let him handle it. Derek's negative reaction to Alluria from a few days earlier was making him wary. Still, he smiled and called out. “Hey, Derek! Out for a run?”

“Looking for you, actually.” And oh God, that was Derek's_ charming_ smile. The one with the damned dimple and everything. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Uh...no?” Stiles felt Alluria nudge him and took a step closer to Derek as he said. “No, I'm free. Why, what's up? pack stuff?”

“No, nothing like that.” Derek's cheeks were pink, Stiles noticed. So were his ears. It was kind of weirdly adorable. “I just...I'm not working tonight. So I thought, if you were free, we could maybe hang out. Get takeout. Catch up. Maybe watch something on Netflix.”

Stiles blinked, feeling a little dazed. “Did...did you just ask me to Netflix and chill with you? Because, I mean...I kind of want to shout yes right now but also, I'm not actually that kind of guy.”

He knew his mouth was running away with him, but he couldn't seem to stop it. “By which I mean I'm not a casual encounter kind of guy, not I'm not a guy-loving-guy kind of guy, because I am, obviously. A guy-loving-guy kind of guy, I mean. I just said_ guy_ way too many times, sorry. Shutting up now.”

~*~*~*~

Derek wasn't sure how the conversation had gotten out of hand so quickly. He hadn't meant to get flustered when asking Stiles to hang out with him, and he certainly hadn't meant to fluster Stiles. It was just that when he saw him, all Derek could think about was how Stiles had looked the _last time_ he'd seen him. Miles of pale skin and moles. Muscles Derek hadn't anticipated on a body that was somehow still lithe and sleek. A newfound confidence that changed how Stiles moved and made Derek wonder just what the younger man had learned at college.

“I was_ not_ asking you for sex.” And oh yeah; that wasn't making things any better because now Stiles looked like he wanted to disappear. He could practically see it as Stiles decided to start backtracking - which was likely to include turning Derek down - and he hastily blurted out the first thing he thought of to forestall that. “I don't have sex on the first date.”

For a long moment, there was silence. Then, Derek stammered. “I...I didn't...I mean, it doesn't_ have_ to be a date, I just-”

“No!” Stiles took a quick step closer, looking panicked. “No, no. A date is fine. Good, even. A date sounds awesome, really.”

Derek felt his shoulders relax and wondered when he'd gone tense. “Right. Okay. A date, then. I'll see you later. Tonight. I'll see you_ tonight,_ I mean.”

Stiles grinned, his face a little flushed, and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Tonight. I'll come by the loft around six, if that's okay?”

“Six is fine.” Derek wondered what he was supposed to do now. He glanced at the Nemeton behind Stiles, and caught a shimmer of magic around it. Suddenly wanting the younger man as far from the tree as possible, he added. "Or now. We...we could head back now. If you don't have any plans for the next few hours, anyway. Or we can wait until six. It's up to you.”

Stiles glanced at the Nemeton, then laughed and rolled his eyes before turning to grin widely at Derek. “Well, I_ was_ planning on spending some time with Alluria - you wouldn't believe the stuff she remembers about the history of this place, it's nuts - but she's encouraging me to go with you. I think she's trying to play matchmaker.”

Derek did his best to keep the anger and concern off his face and out of his voice. "How does a tree encourage a person, anyway?” He wasn't okay with the possibility that the Nemeton was influencing Stiles emotions. He wasn't real sure where this thing between them might go, but he did know it had been building for a while. Longer than he would ever admit to, considering Stiles’ age and the fact that his father was the sheriff.

“She says it's similar to a pack bond.” Stiles tipped his head to the side like he was listening. "I can't really compare because I don't actually_ have_ any pack bonds, but yeah. Waves of emotion. Flashes of memory. A sort of telepathy that exists outside the bounds of words.”

Stiles shouldered his bag and grinned at Derek. "Come on then, Hale. Alluria has released me into your care. She does insist you take good care of me, though. She's protective.”

Derek fell into step beside Stiles, frowning. “What do you mean, you don't have any pack bonds? You had them before, though as a human you wouldn't have felt them. Now that you're practicing magic, though, you should be able to. I've never met a Druid who couldn't.”

Stiles laughed, shaking his head at Derek. “Actually, I'm not a Druid. I've got a spark, which is something entirely different. Once I'm all trained up - which I'm currently not - my title will be _Mage. _And yes, if I had an active pack bond, I'd be able to feel it. I don't.”

Derek froze, staring at Stiles in shock. “Did the Nemeton tell you you're a mage?”

“Hmmm?” Stiles stopped a few steps ahead, looking back with a confused frown. “Uh, no? I didn't need her to. Lena - the Emeryville pack’s Emissary - told me when I started taking lessons from her. She said it was a high honor, to be able to train a future Mage.”

That didn't comfort Derek as much as he'd hoped it would. Mages were rare. Derek had only ever met two, in fact. The first when he was very young and a pack from Europe - Romania, Derek thought - had come to see his mother. Their Emissary had been a Mage and the very air around the man had seemed alive with magic. It had made Derek - and all of the other young wolves in their family - shy away. The second, he and Laura had met while living in New York. She hadn't been an Emissary - though several packs had courted her - but had offered freelance services when the mood struck her. Derek remembered the wild energy that surrounded her, and how she'd seemed both young and old at the same time, and the way Laura had been drawn to her. Her name was Bryoni, and she had told Laura that the Hales were meant to have a Mage, but it wasn't her. 

He wondered if it was Stiles.

Pushing that away for later consideration, he made himself start walking again. “A Mage. That's a really big deal. I...I didn't realize.” Derek glanced over at him and added. “It's good you're taking lessons.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Stiles shrugged. “Everyone keeps saying it's a big deal and freaking out about how late I am with starting my training, but I don't know. I still feel like_ me._ I kind of thought being some sort of all-powerful wizardly type would feel different.”

“Harry Potter felt ordinary.” Derek said, then winced at how stupid that had sounded.

Thankfully, Stiles just laughed again and gave Derek a fond look. "First off, way to show off your inner nerd. Very attractive, and I mean that sincerely.” He hopped over a tree that had fallen across the path in an easy way that threw Derek off. He wondered if Stiles had used magic just now, or if he'd been training in other ways while at school. “And secondly, Harry wasn't that powerful. He was mostly just really fucking lucky.”

“Fair enough.” Derek jumped over the tree as well. “Also, who says you're starting late? You're still a teenager.”

“Mages usually start training when they’re between five and seven.” When Derek stumbled in his shock, Stiles nodded. “Yeah, that was pretty much my response. And dude, don't call me a teenager. That makes it sound like I'm still in high school and makes our date seem kind of creepy.”

“Nineteen means you're still a teenager.” He was partly saying it to remind himself, because he was having trouble remembering why it was important to go slowly with Stiles. Still, he was willing to concede to at least part of Stiles’ point. "You're just also_ legal_ now, that's all. And don't call me dude or I might just call off our date.”

Stiles turn to walk backwards, grinning easily at Derek. "You wouldn't dare, because then I'd go home and sulk and when Dad asks why, I'll tell him. And you don't want to have to explain to your boss that you broke his only child's heart, now do you?”

“I suppose not.” Derek said lightly, though his heart was beating a little faster now. Stiles’ words had been said in good fun, but they implied a level of feeling beyond attraction. Which was good, because he had plenty of people who were only interested in getting into his pants and he really didn't want Stiles to be one of them.

Unable to resist, he asked. “Could I? Break your heart, I mean.”

Stiles tripped, hastily turning around to walk forwards again and hiding his face at the same time, but Derek could see enough of his profile to know the younger man was blushing. Still, despite his obvious embarrassment, Stiles’ heartbeat was steady as he answered honestly. “Probably. I mean, I'm pretty sure I had a thing for you back when I still thought you were a serial killer. I don't think it's going away anytime soon, either.” He laughed nervously and added. "Only seems to be getting worse the more I know you, so...yeah. It's reasonable to assume you could break my heart.”

Derek figured honesty like that deserved the same in return. “I used to be convinced that I was going to wind up behind bars because of you, and not because you kept accusing me of murder. I was so sure that one day I'd lose control and be all over you, age be damned. The day you turned eighteen, I couldn't believe I'd never broken.” He glanced over at Stiles, who was staring at him with wide, tawny eyes. "I knew you were attracted to me, but I always thought it was just that. And I didn't want just a night or two from you. So even once I could have made a move, I just...couldn't.”

“I can understand that.” Stiles reached out without looking and caught Derek's hand in his own, twining their fingers together. "After Kate, and then the Darach...I get it.” He caught Derek's eye and added. “So we take this slow. Careful. For both of us.”

Derek nodded, the weight and heat of Stiles hand in his own oddly reassuring. “Yeah, okay. Slow. I can do that.” He squeezed Stiles’ hand as they reached the trailhead where the jeep was parked next to the Camaro. "Do you want to follow me, or have me bring you back to the jeep later?”

“How about I meet you at the loft?” Stiles asked. "I need to shower and change, so...”

“Your call.” Derek told him. "You can always shower at my place. It wouldn't be the first time. But if you're going to run home first, I'll hit the store on my way home and we can have real food instead of take out for dinner.”

Stiles nodded towards the jeep "If we're going slow, then me being naked in your den seems like a bad idea, so I'll stop at home first. Especially if you're going to cook for me.”

Derek watched Stiles get into the jeep and drive away before sliding behind the wheel of the Camaro. He started driving with his thoughts racing. He was still in shock over his date with Stiles, because he hadn't planned on asking the younger man out. He was glad it happened, of course, if a bit nervous. Fucking things up with Stiles meant fucking up their already scattered pack dynamics. Which brought him to the_ second_ issue at hand. He didn't understand how it was possible for Stiles to not have any pack bonds. True,_ he_ didn't have one with him, but he blamed that on all of the changes the Beacon Hills packs had gone through.

He had assumed - apparently incorrectly - that Scott was still Stiles’ Alpha. He wondered if Stiles’ new closeness with the Emeryville pack had something to do with the fact that Scott _wasn’t._

In truth, Derek was wondering about a lot of things right now. Including why the Nemeton was apparently encouraging Stiles to be with him. After everything with Jennifer...Julia..._the Darach..._he was pretty damn sure he didn't want that tree anywhere near any of his relationships. But if there was one thing he knew about Stiles, it was that the fastest, surest way to make him do something was to tell him not to. So extracting him from the Nemeton’s influence would have to be done carefully.

Derek decided that, for the moment, he would observe. He would gather information. He would wait to act until he was sure it would work. And, come hell or high water, he would protect Stiles.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck my life.
> 
> I am _so fucking sorry_ that a chapter didn't go up yesterday. I wish I had a good excuse, but I honestly just forgot that I was supposed to put the next chapter up on Friday. So you're getting it a day late ((and fuck me, but it's practically _Sunday_ already so it's almost two days late)) but you're getting it, anyway.
> 
> I shall try to do better about remembering when the fuck I'm supposed to be putting up chapters next week, but like...my brain is a sieve and I honestly make no promises. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> On the plus side...it's DATE NIGHT! So please enjoy Derek and Stiles' first date, and heed the new tags! Remember that comments are love and they make me super happy. 💚 🖤 💚 🖤 💚 
> 
> ~ Sly

Stiles let himself into the loft out of habit. He’d had a key about as long as Derek had had the place, after all. He hummed while hanging his hoodie up near the door, kicking off his shoes at the same time. He was just about to sit on Derek's ridiculously comfortable leather couch when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He turned, his greeting dying on his tongue as Derek walked down them_ while_ pulling on a white guinea tee. Above the waistband of his jeans was a set of abs Stiles could have washed clothes on, dusted with a thin trail of dark hair that Stiles wanted to_ bite._ Those muscles rippled and flexed as Derek pulled the shirt into place, leaving Stiles with nothing to look at but Derek's gorgeous face, and his Disney prince hair, and biceps that made him imagine Derek holding him up while fucking him.

Stiles tore his eyes away as he felt the air go staticy around him, his magic responding to his heightened emotions. “H-hey, Derek.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. "Why does it feel so charged in here? I feel like I touched one of those lightning-globe things that makes your hair stand on end.”

“Sorry.” Stiles glanced over at Derek as the beta circled the couch, still a little disbelieving that he was on a_ date_ with Derek-fucking-Hale. "Downside to stretching my spark and actively using it on a regular basis, is that sometimes it just...does things. Usually it's a response to strong emotions.” 

Derek's lips twitched up into a pleased little grin that showed off the adorable bunny teeth Stiles was one hundred percent sure the older man have been teased about as a child. "I think I like the idea of eliciting strong emotions in you.”

As Derek walked towards the kitchen, he asked. “Are you okay with vegetarian lasagna? I figured we could watch something while it cooks and while we're eating, then maybe go out for some ice cream and drop some off at the station for your dad.”

Stiles felt warmth blossom in his chest. Not because Derek had planned their date out, but because he’d thought about the Sheriff and his health. As the rush of affection poured through him, it washed away the electric charge from the air.

He grinned at Derek. “That sounds perfect. Do you want help in the kitchen?”

“Nope.” Derek gesture to the TV. "Why don't you pull up my Netflix queue and see if there's something on my list that you want to see, too. If not, we can fight about it while I assemble the lasagna.”

Stiles laughed, but reached for the remotes. "I'm your guest, Derek. That means I should get to choose.”

“No, you're my_ date.”_ Derek corrected, raising his voice just enough for Stiles to hear him as he disappeared into the kitchen. “And since I'm the one cooking and hosting, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to let me pick the movie.”

“Nah.” Stiles teased back, not bothering to raise his voice because he knew full well that Derek could hear him just fine. "That rule only applies if I'm trying to get into your pants, so we're good.”

There was a pause, then Derek sounded amused as he asked. “Are you saying you don't want to have sex with me? Because no offense, Stiles, but that's a goddamn lie and we both know it.”

Stiles laughed so hard he snorted and it took him a few minutes to regain enough control to speak. “Never said I wasn't attracted to you, big guy. I was just pointing out that we said_ slow,_ so I'm not actively trying to get in your pants.”

“Does that mean you're_ passively_ trying to get in my pants?”

When Stiles finally stopped laughing, he was breathless and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "It means...” He managed at last. "That I should get to pick the movie. Assuming we can't agree on one, that is.”

“Just look at my list already, Stiles.” Derek called back.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles pulled up Netflix and started scrolling through Derek's list. Some of the shows surprised him, but in a good way. "Dude, we are_ so_ binge-watching some of these shows together!”

He could hear Derek sigh from the kitchen, though he was pretty sure it was fond. "You're supposed to pick a movie, Stiles.”

Stiles gasped, then cooed. “Picked one, babe. Ready when you are.”

A minute later, Derek walked back into the room, eyebrows raised him. "Did you seriously just call me_ babe?”_

“What, no good?” Stiles hummed consideringly. "I can try other things. How do you feel about me calling you_ honey_ or..._sweetheart?_ Sweetheart is cute, right?”

“You're insane.” Derek sat next to him on the couch and nodded at the TV. “Also, good choice. You can't go wrong with_ ‘The Princess Bride.’_ It was my favorite movie as a kid.”

Stiles started the movie, wondering if he was allowed to snuggle into Derek or not. The werewolf made the choice for him by sliding an arm around Stiles’ waist and tugging until he was settled against the older man’s side. As he relaxed into the heat and strength of Derek and watched Wesley and Buttercup’s story unfold, Stiles wondered at how_ easy_ it felt. The whole thing was going along like one of the daydreams he'd had back when he’d first met Derek. When he’d imagined going off to college and coming back different. Coming back confident, and experienced, and having grown into himself. He'd imagined Derek seeing him -_ really_ seeing him, for the first time - and realizing what he'd been missing out on.

Of course, in his daydreams, they'd always fallen right into bed. And Derek had never admitted to wanting Stiles for years because, even in his wildest fantasies, he couldn't have imagined that. So really, this...this was actually_ better_ than anything his feverish, adolescent mind had cooked up. It was better because it was real, and because it was more than sex, because Derek had been gone on him for about as long as he had been gone on Derek.

So yeah, Stiles was digging the whole thing. He smiled and squirmed a little closer, because why the hell not. Derek wanted this, and so did he. For the moment, nothing else mattered.

~*~*~*~

Derek slid a couple of good-sized pieces of lasagna into a tupperware container, popping the lid on a moment later. Behind him, Stiles was humming as he washed dishes in the sink. Derek stowed the last of the lasagna in the fridge, then stepped up behind Stiles. He touched Stiles’ waist lightly, not wanting to startle him. The younger man just hummed questioningly, still rinsing suds off the plate he’d just washed as Derek slid his arms loosely around Stiles’ waist.

“Those can wait.” Derek murmured as Stiles set the plate in the plastic dish drainer. "Why don't we bring this food to Noah, then get that ice cream?”

Stiles turned in his arms, smiling up at him. "Sounds like a plan, but I have to ask...does our date end with the ice cream? Cause I don't know if I'm ready for it to be over.”

Derek smiled back, savoring the feel of Stiles’ slim, strong body against his as he tucked him in a little closer. “We could do something else, after. Another movie. A walk. Conversation.”

Stiles’ smile turned playful; wicked around the edges. Stiles slid his arms around Derek's neck, though he had to note that Stiles was actually taller than him. Not by much - an inch or so, maybe - but enough that it surprised him. "I could be persuaded to any or all of those things, darling.”

Derek huffed and rolled his eyes. “Again with the pet names. I thought you wanted our date to last longer, not for me to break up with you.”

Stiles’ eyebrows winged up. “Break up? I don't think I realized we'd made the sort of commitments that could allow for a breakup.”

“Uh...” Derek cleared his throat awkwardly and moved to step back, but was brought up short by Stiles’ hands, locked at the wrists behind his neck. Knowing Stiles wouldn't back down, he took a slow breath and powered through the embarrassment. “I did say I wanted more from you, didn't I? I guess I just assumed that implied a committed relationship.”

“Mmmm...” Stiles smirked at him, looking pleased. "I'm good with that. You can call me your boyfriend all you want, baby.”

Derek felt his face heat up with a blush as he bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from making a truly embarrassing noise. He was also pretty sure his eyes flashed. As if all of that wasn't mortifying enough, Stiles’ whole face lit up like Christmas morning. “I-” He cut himself off because his voice had gone low and breathless and_ that_ wasn't helping his case.

“Did I find a pet name you_ like, _Derek?” Stiles’ tongue came out, slicking over his lower lip to moisten it, then he asked. "You like me calling you that, baby?”

And Derek, god help him,_ did. _Something about the way Stiles’ voice caressed the word_ baby_ sent heat flooding through him. A little hoarsely, he managed. “I, uh...I didn't know I liked that.”

Stiles smiled like a cat, all teeth and wicked intent. “Yeah? Well that's okay, baby. Why don't you tell me what else you like, hmmm?”

Derek groaned this time, leaning in and finally -_ finally_ \- catching that smart mouth with his own. He wasn't gentle. Felt too wild and heated and eager to be anything close to _careful_ as he licked past Stiles’ teeth and into his mouth. The kiss was rough, and demanding, and greedy. It was too much teeth and tongue, with no finesse or skill. Stiles’ hands cupped his face, thumbs stroking over his stubbled cheeks before sliding up to fist in his hair.

When Stiles pulled, dragging him back by his hair, Derek actually snarled. Stiles tsked softly at him. “Calm down, baby. It’s alright. We’re just going to slow down a little, that’s all.” Derek took a steadying breath and Stiles crooned. “There’s a good boy. Now, tell me what you like.”

“That.” Derek rasped, feeling flushed and a little weak in the knees. “You calling me a good boy. And no, I didn’t know I liked that, either.”

“Figures you’d have a praise kink.” Stiles laughed fondly. He leaned in to press a light kiss to Derek’s nose and murmured. “I can work with that, trust me. But...later.” He dropped another soft kiss to Derek’s mouth, then drew back. “Let’s bring the lasagna to Dad before he eats a burger instead. Then, you promised me ice cream.”

Derek nodded. Stiles grabbed the lasagna and went to put on his shoes while Derek followed and said softly. “I do, you know.”

“You do what?” Stiles asked distractedly as he pulled on his hoodie.

“Trust you.” Derek smiled when Stiles’ head snapped around. “I just thought you should know that. I trust you. Completely.”

“Well.” Stiles’ cheeks were pink, but he grinned widely at Derek. “Come on then, big guy. You drive.”

Derek grabbed his keys and his jacket, then held the keys out to Stiles. “Or _you_ can drive. If you think you’re up for it.”

Stiles grabbed the keys and all but ran for the door. “Oh _hell_ yes.”

Derek was still laughing as he slid into the Camaro’s passenger seat. He was pretty sure this was the best first date he’d ever been on. And somehow it made perfect sense that it was with Stiles.

~*~*~*~

Stiles knocked on the door to his dad's office, strolling in with all the comfort of a lifetime when Noah called out distractedly for him to enter. "Hey, Daddy-o. I come bearing delicious food for you.”

Noah took the container with a suspicious look, then peeked inside. "Oh wow. Is this lasagna? What made you decide to cook, kiddo?”

“About that...” Stiles knew he was blushing, but he'd promised his dad - after the whole Darach thing - that he wouldn't keep important things a secret anymore. Derek...Derek definitely felt like an important thing. “I didn't. Derek did. For our first date.”

The sheriff's head snapped up, shock written across his face. "You're dating Derek Hale? My newest deputy? The man you repeatedly accused of murder?”

“Okay, you can't reference him being a deputy and then mention the murder-stuff.” Stiles protested with annoyance. “And you already know why that happened or you'd never have hired him. Derek is a good man and yes, I'm dating him.”

Noah hummed consideringly. “He _is_ a good man. And a good deputy. He's also more than a few years older than you.”

“And I've been legal for more than a year, so his age is irrelevant.” Stiles raised an eyebrow at his dad as he said. “Any more bullshit objections or can I get back to my date?”

“Hell, kiddo. I'm entitled to do the dad-thing every now and then.” He smiled at Stiles with easy affection. “And I'll be reminding Derek that I have wolfsbane bullets. But you could do a lot worse. Just be careful. I don't want to see either of you get hurt.”

Stiles hugged his dad, nodding towards the door. “I know. We're taking things slow because I know his damages and he knows mine. This feels good, though. It feels right. And after everything we've been through, I think we owe it to ourselves to give this a shot.”

“Fair enough.” He sighed and added. "Thank Derek for the lasagna. Text me if you won't be home tonight so I don't worry. Now get back to your date.” As Stiles opened the door, he added softly. "Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Dad.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all! So, because I was super forgetful last week and posted late - and _not one person_ complained - I decided to post this one tonight, rather than waiting until tomorrow. I hope you lot enjoy it!
> 
> Heed the new tags (though there aren't many). You'll get some more clues to what's going on in this chapter, and see some things starting to develop/unfold. Comments are, as ever, love so don't hesitate to leave me some.
> 
> 💚 🖤 💚 🖤 💚
> 
> ~ Sly

It had been a week since his first date with Derek, and they'd been on two more. Stiles had been to see Alluria - to encourage her new growth - three times since then. He still hadn't told anyone what he had done...or what he was_ planning_ to do. But soon. He was still working on gathering several of the elements he would need for the spell, and he wanted as many pieces in place as possible before he brought anyone else in on the plan. Which meant, of course, that he wasn't getting any assistance with obtaining what he needed. It wasn't exactly making things go faster.

Which had led to his current decision.

He was sitting in Derek's loft, doing his best to get information without actually asking for it in a direct fashion. It was a lot harder than what he usually did, which was answering questions without actually giving any information. "Your family must have had a lot of intense stuff, right? I mean, the lore books alone... But also spell ingredients and artifacts, right? A family as old as the Hales, they must have collected a lot.”

“I guess.” Derek shrugged, looking up from where he was chopping vegetables for the stir fry they were having. “I was never really interested in that kind of thing.”

“Kind of makes me wish someone had known about my spark.” Stiles typed something on his laptop, doing his best to sound distracted. He wasn't actually working on anything, but Derek couldn't see the screen so that didn't matter. “I would have been able to study some of it. Makes me wonder if any of it is replaceable.” He was careful to tell the truth, having learned a while ago that the only way to lie to a werewolf was by not actually lying.

He looked at Derek over the top of his computer and added almost absently. "Loss of that kind of cumulative knowledge always makes me a little sad. Like the Library of Alexandria.”

“There's probably stuff in the vault.” Derek said thoughtfully as he went back to chopping. "I don't know what, though. Laura would have been the one to take inventory, before we left for New York. And Peter probably knows what's in there, too.”

Stiles took slow, measured breaths to try to keep his heart rate steady. "What, like a bank vault? You mean your family kept stuff like that in a safety deposit box? That doesn't seem safe, or smart.”

Derek huffed in amusement. "No, we have a vault under the high school. There's an entrance in the basement and another outside. Only a Hale can open it.” He held up one hand and flicked out his claws with a smirk. “These are the keys.”

“Wow. Heavy.” Stiles gave Derek a charming smile. “Is there any chance I can convince you to show me the place? I have to admit, I'm curious.”

Derek froze, looking at him oddly. Stiles wondered if he’d taken it too far; pushed too hard. Then Derek said carefully. “Maybe one day. I don't know that I'm ready to go down there.”

“Of course. I understand.” Stiles closed his computer and crossed to Derek. He gave the werewolf a soft kiss, and murmured. “Whenever you're ready. There's no pressure, and it's not like the vault is going anywhere. I'm sorry if me asking upset you.”

Derek sighed and some of the tension went out of him. "Yeah. No. It's okay. I'll let you know when I feel up to it.” He kissed Stiles again, lightly, and added. “If...if it takes me a while, I can always ask Peter to take you down. Or Cora, when she visits next.”

Stiles smiled, shaking his head. “I'd rather see it with you, so don't worry about it. Really. I mean that. I would never rush you into something like that.”

And while Stiles meant every word, technically, his mind was already searching for a loophole. A way into the vault that wouldn't involve Derek. Or Peter. He needed Peter for something else, and he didn't want any one person to have too much information; too many pieces of the puzzle. Especially not Peter, who was too clever for his own good...or anyone else’s. While part of his mind focused on the problem at hand, the rest went back to focusing on his date.

He and Derek were still taking things slow. They hadn't done more than make out so far, and that was fine. Really. Except that Stiles wanted more, and he knew Derek did, too. And_ slow_ didn't mean they couldn't do more than kiss. They could take the next step, if they both felt ready, even if they didn't have full-on penetrative sex. There was nothing stopping them.

Other than the secrets Stiles was keeping.

And wasn't that a pain in the ass. Because Stiles wasn't going to tell Derek what Alluria had asked him to do until it was done and he was sure it had worked. But he also couldn't imagine being intimate with someone he was lying to about something so big; so important. It left him in an untenable situation, complete with ticking clock. A clock that was only getting louder.

As Stiles started the rice cooker for Derek - who was loading meat and vegetables and mushrooms into a wok - he knew he was running out of time. Whatever it took, he needed to act soon. Before it was too late.

~*~*~*~

Stiles took three days to find the entrance to the vault in the school's basement. Then, he enlisted the help of the only Hale he trusted to keep it a secret. “You just put your claws in and then twist. I think.”

Malia raised an eyebrow. “You _think?” _Stiles shrugged and she sighed, rolling her eyes, but she let out her claws and did as she was told. When the lock clicked loudly and the door opened, she hummed. “Well, that's fun. Why are we breaking into your boyfriend's vault, anyway?”

“Technically, we aren't breaking in.” Stiles said as he led the way inside. “You're a Hale, and you have just as much right to the contents as Derek, Peter, and Cora.”

“But I don't want anything from the vault.” Malia followed Stiles as he scanned shelves, looking for a specific item. If he couldn't find one in the vault, he might have to go to Peter about it after all. “We're in here because_ you_ want something.”

Stiles huffed in annoyance. "Yeah, okay. But you're okay with me taking a single thing, right?” Malia nodded and he said. “So that means no crime is being committed. You know, legally speaking.”

He started opening boxes on the next shelving unit. Malia leaned against it, watching him. “So if we're not doing anything wrong, why’d you ask me to keep it a secret?”

Stiles opened a box and crowed in delight at the crystal sphere inside and the spellwork etched into its surface. “Found it!” He closed the box and slipped it into his bag, then turned to Malia. “Look, I’ll explain all of this to you, okay? And I'll need your help again. But it's a secret because what I'm doing? It's crazy difficult magic. And if it doesn't work - if I'm not strong enough, or if I fuck something up - then the result could be really bad, and that's why I don't want the others involved.”

“Bad how? “Malia straightened up, looking somber. "Bad like the Nogitsune?”

“No. Nothing like that. Bad like...” Stiles sighed, then tried to explain it. "Like it would hurt Derek. Not physically, but emotionally. And I don't want to hurt him. Ever. So if it doesn't work, it's better if he just...never knows about it. And the fewer people who know, the less-likely he is to find out.”

Malia nodded slowly. "Okay. I won't say anything. Not to Derek, and not to anyone else. And I'll help you with whatever you need. But only if you tell me everything.”

Stiles didn't even hesitate. "Deal.”

~*~*~*~

Derek slid his hands under Stiles’ shirt, savoring the feel of that smooth skin beneath his palms. Stiles groaned into their kiss and Derek let his hands glide up and down the sleek expanse of Stiles’ back. When Stiles turned his head, panting as he broke the kiss, Derek immediately set his teeth against the pale stretch of Stiles’ throat. He breathed deeply, taking in the way Stiles smelled - like loam, and green growing things, and petrichor. And now - new since he'd come back from college - was the scent of ozone, sharp and clear and undeniably the magic in his blood. The younger man had always smelled intoxicating to him. Something about his scent called to the wolf in Derek; pulled at him like the moon.

He was done resisting it.

He closed his mouth over Stiles’ racing pulse, sucking at it in a way he knew would leave a mark on that fair skin. And god, but he wanted that. Wanted to press bruises into Stiles’ hips that matched his fingertips. Wanted to mark his throat up with teeth and suction. Wanted to leave stubble burn on the tender inside of Stiles’ thighs. Wanted to drag his claws down Stiles’ back and leave behind cherry-red welts. Wanted the whole world to know that Stiles was_ his._ He had never felt like this before. Possessive, and nearly wild with it.

Stiles moaned as Derek worked on leaving some of those marks on his throat, then there were suddenly hands pressed against his chest and Stiles’ breathless voice said. “Wait. Derek, wait, stop.”

Derek pulled back immediately, breathing harshly. He was also uncomfortably, achingly hard inside his jeans, but he pushed that aside in favor of concern for Stiles. “What? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No. No, of course not.” Stiles raked trembling fingers through his hair and blew out a shaky breath. “We just need to slow down a little, that’s all.”

Derek counted to ten. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and counted again. Without opening his eyes, he said. "I know we agreed to take things slowly, but god, Stiles. How slow are we talking about here?”

“What do you want, a timeline?”

Derek immediately opened his eyes, because that was Stiles’ pissed off voice. He leveled the younger man with a cross look, his own temper rising. "Of course not.”

“Well, I don’t know what you want, then.” Stiles snapped, visibly bristling. “I said _stop_ when I needed you to stop, so what the hell more do you want from me, Derek? I can’t give you guaranteed date for when I’ll green-light sex, or anything else. If that’s a problem...”

“Of course it’s not.” Derek bit out, because it seemed like Stiles was spoiling for a fight and Derek...well, he was just frustrated enough to give it to him. “But we've known each other for almost three years. We know all sorts of deep, dark secrets about each other. This is our sixth date. It's not like I picked you up at Jungle and brought you home with me. There's_ going slow_ and then there's_ not moving._ I'd like to do more than just kiss you. And if you don’t want that - for whatever reason - then okay, but you need to be honest with me if that’s the case so we can deal with it.”

Stiles nodded, looking uncomfortable and unhappy as he grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and held it around himself like a shield. The anger was gone from his voice when he spoke, soft and shaky. “It’s not that, Derek. I want you. You _know_ that I do. I just...I can't go there with you. Not yet. I need more time.”

“Okay.” Derek agreed, without hesitation. “I'm okay with that. Really.” He reached out and cupped Stiles’ cheek with his palm, dragging his thumb over Stiles’ kiss-swollen lower lip as he added. “But I'd like to know_ why._ I'd like to understand what it is that has you keeping me at a distance. And if you can't or won't tell me, then okay. I'll deal. But I_ want_ to know. I don't like feeling shut out.”

Stiles nodded again. “I know. And I get that, I do. After everything you’ve been through, you need to feel like you're in the loop, because otherwise your mind goes to dark places about what you might not know and that’s fair, but Der...” Stiles locked eyes with Derek and finished pointedly. “My reasons are _my reasons_ and it’s not fair to force me to share them just because you have a crappy relationship history. I shouldn’t have to justify myself.”

“It’s not just that.” Derek said, because it wasn’t and the other part mattered, too. “There's more to it than me having some trust issues. You're younger than me, and less-experienced. You have your magic, but you're still learning and I'm much stronger than you. I'm arguably the person in our relationship with more power. And I've been on the other side of that equation. I've been pressured and coerced and even_ spelled_ into having sex.” Derek’s words were a little unsteady and he was staring at the far wall now, but he’d worked hard to be able to talk about this and he wasn’t going to fuck things up with Stiles because sometimes it was still difficult, so he powered through. “So if you aren't ready - if you need time - then I respect that, a hundred percent.”

Derek forced himself to look at Stiles again as he added. “But I want to know why, because I want to keep those lines of communication open. It’s important to me that you’re comfortable with me and not just physically. So of course I want you to tell me if you aren't ready, but I also want to know _why._ I never want you to feel like you have to justify your refusals, but there are so many reasons someone might not want to do something and the why matters almost as much as the _no.”_

Stiles shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I get that you’re drawing from your experiences here, big guy, but it's not the same thing. You didn't tell Kate you weren't ready because you thought she might lose interest. You didn't want her to think you were too immature for her to bother with. I'm not worried about you leaving me because I'm not ready to have sex with you.”

Derek considered Stiles words, then asked softly. "But are you worried I'll end things if I know _why_ you aren't ready? Because that's not much different.”

For several minutes, there was silence. Finally, Stiles said. "I don't want to argue semantics with you, Derek. I just don't. I also don’t want to get into all the specifics of my reasons, because it feels too much like having to justify why I’m not ready - why I’m saying no - and I’m not really comfortable with that, so I’m going to need you to accept that.”

Derek nodded immediately. “Okay. That’s fair. I won’t ask again.”

He was about to change the subject - to suggest maybe they watch a movie or something - but before he could, Stiles spoke again.

“I’m not justifying myself, because I don’t _need_ to justify saying no, but...” Stiles looked down at his hands and continued to talk. “I've never really dated anyone. Malia and I fooled around a little, but she was new to being human and I was possessed so it didn't go much of anywhere. I’ve gone on a few dates with a few different people since being at Berkeley, but nothing that clicked. Part of that is because supernatural bullshit takes up a lot of my time, and part is because it's hard for me to trust. To let someone in.

“That's not an issue with you.” Stiles glanced up at him, then dropped his eyes again. "But it means I've never done this before.”

“You're a virgin?” Derek didn't mean to sound disbelieving but, well...Stiles was smart and sweet and funny. Not to mention gorgeous. It was just a little hard to wrap his head around the idea.

Stiles laughed, sounding a little tired. "No. No, I didn't mean...let me try that again.” He rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve hooked up a few times, but it was always...I don’t know, _hollow._ That's why I don't do it anymore. Not for months now. And I've_ never_ had sex that was more than just sex. I've never had sex with someone I was emotionally intimate with. And maybe it's stupid, but it feels different somehow. And I want to make sure that when we do finally take that step, it's right and there's nothing in the way.”

Touched by Stiles’ words, Derek leaned in to catch the younger man’s lips in a kiss so sweet and tender it almost hurt. When he drew back, he murmured. “This is a first for me, too. Being with someone I trust, who knows me so completely. And I don't know what you’re worried might get in the way, but I don't need to. Just let me know when you're ready.”

Stiles seemed to wilt with relief. “I will. As soon as I’m ready I’ll let you know. I promise.” He glanced at his watch and groaned. “And it’s late, so I should go.”

Derek spoke before he could second-guess himself. “Stay.” When Stiles opened his mouth to protest, he continued. “We don’t have to have sex just because you spend the night. But I want to fall asleep with you in my arms. I want to wake up next to you in the morning. I want to make you breakfast before I have to go to work. Text your dad. Stay.”

When Stiles slowly nodded, Derek felt a combination of relief and victory wash over him. As Stiles called Noah, Derek wondered if the younger man would have a nightmare. He thought about what Noah and Stiles had each told him - the way Stiles sometimes screamed himself hoarse in his sleep, and how Stiles followed his nightmares with frantic scribbling in a notebook - and wasn’t sure if he wanted Stiles to have a peaceful night, or if he wanted to witness it for himself. Derek shook his head, pushing the thought out of his mind. He was going to enjoy having Stiles beside him all night, and that was that.

~*~*~*~

Stiles kissed Derek goodbye at the door. “Have a good day at work.” He smoothed his hands down the front of Derek’s uniform shirt and added. “Also, remind me to ask a therapist what it means that I find this uniform sexy as fuck even though my dad wears one.”

“I’m pretty sure it means _daddy issues_ so there, I just saved you the cost of a session.” Derek laughed, kissing Stiles again before he murmured. “Will you be here when I get home?”

Stiles grinned, blushing a little. “I can be, if you haven’t gotten tired of me. The only thing on my schedule right now is a trip to see Alluria.”

Derek frowned. “I don’t like you going out there alone.” Stiles started to protest, and Derek held up a hand to stop him. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I can’t help it that I worry about you, okay?”

That made Stiles smile again, feeling warm all over. “Well, you don’t need to worry. I’m not going to be alone today, and I know you trust your family to keep me safe.”

Derek smiled back. “Tell Malia I said hi. And be careful.”

Stiles nodded, but didn’t say anything. He also didn’t correct Derek’s misconception about which family member he was meeting up with. Meeting Malia at the Nemeton was infinitely less suspicious than meeting Peter there was. Hell, meeting Malia at the Nemeton was less suspicious than meeting Peter _in a coffee shop_ would be.

As Derek reached for the door, Stiles’ mouth got ahead of his brain - as it so often did - and he spoke without meaning to. “Be safe, Derek. I love you.”

For a moment, there was silence, then Stiles realized what he’d said and looked over to meet stunned, multi-colored eyes. Derek rasped. “Your heart didn’t uptick.”

“Yeah, I know.” Stiles swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to say that, but that’s not the same as not meaning what I said. Just...no pressure.”

“Of course not.” Derek grinned widely, flashing the dimple. “And since you brought it up...I love you too, Stiles.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say to that. Right then, all of his lies - though they were well-intentioned and necessary - seemed to weigh heavily on his heart. “Derek, I-”

“We don’t have time to talk about this.” Derek cut him off, though his voice was soft and easy. “And honestly, we don’t even _need_ to talk about it. But, if you want to, we can. Tonight. Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Stiles smiled weakly. “Go catch some bad guys. I promise I’ll be here when you get home.”

Derek tugged him into a brief but heated kiss, then he was gone. Stiles had to take a minute to gather himself before he, too, headed out. As he drove into the Preserve, Stiles realized something. Their declarations changed nothing. If anything, knowing Derek loved him back just made him more determined to do what Alluria had asked of him. Beacon Hills needed this - and so did Alluria - but Derek...Derek _deserved _to get this. That thought followed Stiles well into the woods.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. In this chapter, you're gonna get a bunch of information and a few more pieces of the overall puzzle.
> 
> I'm very eager for you lot to start guessing ((though I expect the majority of the guesses to come after Ch 7)) so pretty please don't hesitate to let me know what you think about everything you find out in this chapter...and what you think it means for future chapters. Comments are love and I read every single one ((and reply)) so pretty please leave me some down below.
> 
> ~ Sly

Stiles stroked the tip of one finger over a dark green leaf. “You’re doing well.” He praised Alluria softly, moving carefully to touch each leaf on the new sapling growing in the center of the massive stump. From where she emerged from the old wood to the very top of her, Alluria was now a foot and a half tall. “It’ll go faster soon, I promise.”

Alluria sent back patience. She had waited a long time for this; years and years. A few weeks made very little difference to her. The sound of a branch snapping made Stiles tense, but he didn’t put a glamour up this time. He needed cooperation, and that wasn’t something Peter Hale gave readily. A show of real power wouldn’t go amiss. The Nemeton’s new growth was definitely that.

“Well, well.” Peter drawled as he drew closer, blue eyes bright and curious. “You have been a busy little bee, haven’t you, Stiles?”

Stiles watched as Peter reached out and stroked a leaf, crooning. “Aren’t you lovely?”

Alluria preened and stretched her leaves out. Stiles huffed, but passed on her message. “She says thank you. For the compliment, and...” Stiles paused, taking in the memory Alluria fed him, then raised his eyebrows at Peter and added dryly. “And for feeding her what little remained of the Darach’s power when you killed her.”

“Not good at keeping secrets, is she?” Peter sighed, looking a little put out. “Especially considering she’s a tree. One would expect her to be more circumspect.”

“As a tree, her morality means she doesn’t understand why this should be a secret.” Stiles smiled coolly at Peter. “I, on the other hand, do. Just like you understand why what I’m doing here has to be kept a secret, at least for now.”

Peter smirked. “But of course. Mutually assured destruction, then?”

Stiles shrugged. “More like, mutually beneficial silence. And I have a favor to ask. I need you to retrieve something for me. Something that will help me and, in turn, help you.”

Peter made a _go on_ gesture. “What is it you need me to get for you? And, of course, how will it help me?”

“The how comes later.” Stiles said firmly. _“After_ I’ve done what I need to, you’ll understand. As to what I need...well, it’s less _what_ and more _who.”_

Peter merely raised an eyebrow, so Stiles bit out. “Deucalion. I need you to find Deucalion and bring him to me. _Alive,_ Peter. He’s no good to me if he’s dead.” He leveled Peter with an icy look, his eyes glowing gold. “And if you swallow down his alpha spark, I’ll be forced to use you in his place. So do us both a favor and don’t try to cross me.”

Straight white teeth flashed as Peter smiled charmingly. “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling. You’ve always been my favorite, after all.” He touched another of Alluria’s leaves and added in a softer, more serious tone. “She should never have been hurt. But Mother distrusted her, and she passed that on to Talia, who was...young. Young, and inexperienced, when she became Alpha, and a new mother to boot. Her focus was scattered and the Druids have never understood Alluria, or her power. Her _purpose._ They convinced my sister that the Nemeton was poisonous, and that true peace could never come while she lived.”

Stiles felt Alluria’s grief; her pain and sorrow and longing. She fed him memories to go with the words Peter was saying. Closing his eyes as tears began to fall, he whispered. “You begged them not to hurt her, didn’t you? Called her your friend. Threw yourself at her base and dug in your claws, screaming and pleading as Talia pulled you away.”

He opened his eyes and crouched down, tracing the gouges in Alluria’s stump. They were small, and narrow, and not deep at all. Peter hadn't stood a chance against Talia, but he’d tried. “God, Peter, you were so young. You were, what...seven? Or eight?”

“Ten.” Peter answered wearily, sitting on the stump and touching her leaves again. “I was ten, but I’d always been small for my age. I loved Alluria. Treasured our conversations. Believed, with all of my heart, in our sacred vow to protect her. I think my intense bond with her is what made Mother distrust her. Even as a toddler, I would run away from the house to be near her.”

Stiles nodded slowly. “She says you were born here, in the clearing. It was a full moon and you weren’t due yet. Not for several weeks. The pack was gathered, like it always did back then. Your mother went into labor and you were born within the hour.” Stiles smiled as Alluria’s love for Peter washed over him in waves. “All Hale wolves were once born here, their cord-blood spilled at her roots to strengthen her ties to each of them. You were the first in generations and she loved you dearly. _Loves_ you.”

When Stiles glanced up, Peter was crying. He looked...broken. _Shattered._ “I loved her, too. I will always love her. When Talia pulled me away from her, I clung to our bond. When they began to cut her down, I felt every blow. I screamed in pain and the Druids told Talia that Alluria was hurting me to try to sway them. They told her it was proof of Alluria’s evil. But Alluria was begging me to let go; to save myself. I wouldn’t.”

“When they were done...” Stiles murmured, the memories still flooding his mind. “She was weak, but not dead. Because you never let go. But it damaged you, too. It’s where the madness that overwhelmed you after the fire was born. Your pack bonds helped anchor you against it and losing so many at once set the madness free. But...you’re better now. Sort of.”

“When Derek lost his alpha spark, my connection to Alluria was all that remained.” Peter sighed softly, wiping his tears away. “And she was the strongest she’d been since that day. These last few weeks, I could feel her getting stronger, you know. I just didn’t realize _you_ were why.” He paused for a moment, then said. “I’ll bring Deucalion. I’d do anything for Alluria.”

Another flash of memory hit Stiles like a tidal wave. It was weak and hazy, and it was wrapped in agony and grief. Peter was free of Talia’s confining arms, in a circle of Druids, weeping as he clung to Alluria’s stump. He turned on Talia, eyes burning gold and mouth full of fangs, hatred etched into every line of his sweet baby face.

“I should have been the alpha.”

Peter’s head snapped around, shocked and uneasy. “What did you just say?”

Stiles scrubbed his hands roughly over his face, then met Peter’s eyes. “That’s what you told Talia, afterwards. Druids all around, Alluria’s mangled remains beneath your palms, and the tiniest thread still connecting you to her as she slipped away, too weak to stay conscious. You told her-”

“I should have been the alpha, not you.” Peter whispered the words, a pale echo of the way the child in Alluria’s memory screamed them, all fury and betrayal. “I loved her. I would have protected her, like you were supposed to. I should have been the alpha and I swear, you’ll pay for this.”

“Alluria remembers nothing else until Paige’s blood woke her up.” Stiles ran his fingers over the scars from Peter’s claws again, then met Peter’s eyes. “What happened?”

“I was right. She paid dearly for her failure; for her crime. And the peace the Druids promised Alluria’s death would bring? It never came.” Peter shook his head, looking tired and sad. “Instead, our pack’s hold on the land weakened. Wendigos and banshees moved into town. Fae creatures overtook parts of the Preserve that had belonged to the Hales for generations. And then, the hunters came. And with the hunters came other packs - frightened, or angry, or seeking either protection or the power our pack had wielded for so long.

“Our pack had been huge, once. Dozens of us. As previous generations drew away from Alluria, we began to shrink. Talia had only three children. Our mother had only two, and I came much later in her life. I was only blessed with Malia. There were a few others.” Peter shrugged. “Cousins of ours. But we were much diminished, even before the fire. And Talia didn’t believe in biting to expand, unless the human was marrying into the pack. Laura obviously felt the same, as she never made betas. Kate did her best to finish us off, but the Hales were going extinct long before her.”

Stiles took a few minutes to absorb, once Peter fell silent. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t anything he’d ever expected to say. “I could make you an alpha. I have the power to do it.”

Peter smiled faintly, touching Alluria’s new leaves again. “I’m not ten anymore, Stiles. I’m not that pup, full of righteous fury and good intentions.” He looked at Stiles, amused. “We both know I would make a poor alpha. But I’ll get you Deucalion. Alive, as requested. And I’ll protect her, just as I’ve always tried to do.”

“Thank you.” He touched Peter’s hand and added. “When I’m done with all this, you’ll be able to talk to her again. Your bond will be strong enough for that. You have my word.”

“I look forward to it.” Peter replied. “I’ve missed her.” After a moment, he said. “It was Talia’s greatest cruelty, you know.”

“What was?”

Peter pulled his hand away slowly. “She took all knowledge of Malia from me, but I never had a chance to know her. You can’t miss something you don’t know you’ve lost. But after Paige, she took my memory of how to find Alluria. Our bond was too weak to guide me. And her? _Her,_ I missed. It was like Talia had killed her again. Taken her from me twice. As I said..._cruel.”_

And while he had never imagined having much sympathy for Peter Hale of all people, Stiles found himself in agreement. Cruel, indeed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so.
> 
> This chapter is where you guys get the _final clues_ about what, exactly, Stiles is planning to do! You're going to get the last few bits of information you need to start making guesses. And I would absolutely _love_ to see some guesses in the comments!
> 
> In connection with that...the next chapter is the actual ritual Stiles is planning with Alluria. I'll say it again next-chapter, but please remember that new tags go up with each chapter - as needed - and it's important to check those tags and make sure there's nothing that might bother/disturb/trigger you. This will be particularly important in the next chapter, but I do urge my readers to keep an eye on the tags each week. Take care of yourselves, my lovelies. ❤️
> 
> As ever, comments are my life's blood and I cherish them all, so pretty please leave me some!
> 
> ~ Sly

Peter promised Stiles he’d bring him Deucalion within a few days. He was aiming for three, but warned it might take up to five. That gave Stiles only a small window of time to do everything else. Catching Deucalion was one thing. Holding him for any length of time would be nearly impossible. Once the alpha was in Beacon Hills, Stiles would need to act quickly. Thankfully, he was almost ready.

And, honestly, his bigger concern was Derek.

When the older man walked into the loft, Stiles was just sliding four homemade potpies into the oven. He pulled his apron off as Derek came into the kitchen. “Hey. How was your day? Catch any bad guys?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Derek kissed Stiles’ cheek, then reached around him to steal a cherry tomato out of the salad he’d been about to cover and put in the fridge. “Mmmm...no bad guys, but we have another body.”

“That’s, what...three in four weeks?” Stiles didn’t like the sound of that. “Do they all have the same M.O.?”

Derek stole another tomato, laughing and jumping back when Stiles swatted at him with the roll of saran wrap. “Sorry. I skipped lunch. And yeah, same M.O. for all three. But it’s only been three weeks since body number one dropped.”

Stiles hummed as he covered the bowl. “So one per week. Neurotoxin in the bloodstream, a single injection site that doesn’t match any known needle-size, stinger, or bite.” He slid the salad into the fridge and asked. “Has the neurotoxin been identified yet?”

“No, and you know way too much about this case.” Derek leaned against the counter, tracking Stiles as he cleaned up. “How long until dinner?”

“A bit.” Stiles sighed at Derek’s mournful look and nodded towards the doorway. “Go shower and change and I’ll whip up an appetizer real quick.”

“Mmmm...love you.” Derek murmured, grabbing Stiles and pulling him in for a long, slow kiss as he walked by. “No more murder talk tonight, okay? It’s all I’ve been thinking about since this morning. When I come down, you can tell me about _your_ day.”

Stiles shrugged as he moved back to the fridge. “Not much to tell. I was here most of the day. Turned on some Netflix. Did some research. How about we watch something when you come back down, before I leave?”

Derek paused in the doorway. “You aren’t staying?”

“Only for a few hours.” Stiles shot him an apologetic smile. “After we eat dinner, I’m bringing some by the station for Dad and Jordan, then going out for a little while. Meeting up with a couple of friends.”

Derek was staring at him in a disconcertingly intent way. “Yeah? Going where? Is it the kind of thing you could bring a date to, or...”

Stiles set ingredients on the counter, lining them up as he answered. “I don’t think you coming along would be a good idea. I doubt it’ll be what you’d consider fun.”

As Stiles started grating cheese, Derek asked. “Why is that? We pretty much have the same circle of friends, excluding your new college buddies. But you wouldn’t invite other wolves to town without letting all of us know.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Stiles set both the cheese and the grater down hard, turning to give Derek a look that was creeping towards angry. “I also wouldn’t demand an accounting of where you go and with whom.”

When Derek just stared at him, he snapped. “And I actually _do_ have other friends you aren’t involved with. Phoenix and Ginger and that whole crew. They’re the _one_ non-supernatural part of my life and I like them that way. Now, are you going to keep talking to me like a parent who caught their kid breaking curfew? Or can we eat and watch a movie and maybe spend some time together _not_ fighting before I have to go?”

Stiles hated the deception - the misleading truths he was spitting out - but he needed Derek off his case for a few more days. Then, it would be done. And either it would work and he would tell Derek everything...or it would fail and never be spoken of again. Whatever the case, he would be done lying to Derek. He just had to get through a few more days.

“Sorry.”

Stiles turned to blink at Derek, who was blushing. He caught Stiles’ eye and managed a weak smile. “I just...I guess the murders have me on edge. I don’t want to let you out of my sight. Which is crazy, and I’m sorry. I’ll try to reel in the protective instincts.”

“S’okay.” Stiles smiled back and admitted. “It’s one of the things I love about you. How protective you are, I mean. Just...I don’t like feeling controlled. Or like everyone around me is watching me like I might snap at any second. It reminds me of what everyone was like right after everything with the Nogitsune.”

He sighed, then picked up the cheese and grater again. “Go shower. Let me cook. Then we’ll watch something, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Stiles listened as Derek finally left the kitchen and headed up the spiralling metal stairs to shower. He let out a slow, shaky breath and reminded himself that it would be worth it. If this worked, it would be worth _everything._

~*~*~*~

Stiles set candles on the grave, doing his best to ignore the eyes on him. The sound of approaching footsteps had Malia straightening away from the tombstone she’d been leaning against, her eyes glowing blue in the dark. An answering orange-red glow had her relaxing again. “Hey, Jordan.”

“Malia.” Jordan Parrish raised an eyebrow at where Stiles was positioning a wooden bowl of herbs on the ground. “Stiles. Interesting meeting place. Why do I get the feeling this favor of yours is going to be trouble?”

“It’s not.” Stiles placed his staff sideways across the grave, right in front of his knees, then laid down his athame. The last thing he set down was the crystal orb he’d taken from the Hale family vault. He glanced up at Jordan. “I don’t need much from you, I promise. And there’s no danger in this.”

Jordan looked a little skeptical. “Right.” He shot Malia a look, then turned back to Stiles. “Look, your dad asked me to keep an eye on you. I know Malia was asked, too. We’re supposed to be looking for any worrying or disturbing behavior. Pretty sure this qualifies.”

Stiles considered Jordan for a moment, then said softly. “There was damage done to Beacon Hills a while back. About twenty-five years ago. The damage has spread every day since. We’ve faced the results of that damage. The ripples that spread out from it.” He gestured to the spell-elements he’d set up. “This? This is part of me healing that damage.”

Jordan stepped closer, crouching down to look over Stiles’ setup. He turned to Malia. “You’re on board with this? With not telling anyone and all? Because if this is a good thing we’re doing, I don’t get why we’re not allowed to talk about it.”

“I’m good with it.” Malia moved to sit on Stiles’ other side. “If Stiles thinks the best thing to do is tell no one unless he succeeds, then I trust that it’s the best thing to do. Look at where we are, Jordan. I mean _really_ look. Then try to understand the need for silence.”

Jordan looked down at the grave they were kneeling on, then sucked in a sharp breath. He looked between Stiles and Malia, then asked. “How long?”

“I need a week, to see if I can do what needs to be done.” Stiles gave him a grimly determined look. “After that...well, if it works, everyone will know. If it doesn’t...knowing will only cause unnecessary pain and silence will be better.”

“Okay.” Jordan agreed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Bleed a little. Get your flame on. Howl.” Stiles grinned up at him, though it was a little tight around the edges. “Like I said, not much.”

“Fantastic.” Jordan sat at last, folding his legs and gesturing to the grave. “Let’s do this, then.”

Stiles put both hands on his staff, took a steadying breath, and pushed his spark at the candles. They lit in rapid succession - _one, two, three, four_ \- and he let go of the staff. Next, he picked up his athame and held out his hand to Malia. “You first.”

Malia gave him her hand, holding perfectly still as he drew the blade across her palm. She didn’t even flinch. When he was done, she curled her hand into a fist, moved it over the bowl of herbs, and squeezed until blood trickled down into it. When Stiles touched her wrist, she drew back. He held out his hand to Jordan next. The deputy only flinched a little as Stiles cut _his_ palm, then he followed Malia’s lead and let it drip into the bowl.

Stiles stopped him after a few seconds, because he didn’t need as much from Jordan has he had from Malia; their blood served very different purposes. “Alright, buddy. I need you to go all human torch for me, light the contents of the bowl on fire, then howl.”

“Okay, but doesn’t that sort of screw with the whole _secrecy_ thing?” He asked. “Me howling, I mean. Not exactly discreet.”

“Trust me.” Stiles said. “Now, if you don’t mind. The longer this takes, the greater the risk we’ll get caught out here.”

Jordan sighed, but did as Stiles asked. He called up the flames that were always just below the surface, then touched one finger to the contents of the bowl. It went up with a sparkling hiss, and Jordan immediately threw his head back as he howled. Stiles watched as Jordan’s eyes went wide with shock. The deputy’s howl was _silent._ Not that Stiles was surprised, of course. And it wasn’t _really_ silent. It just wasn’t meant for _their_ ears.

Focused as he was, Stiles didn’t look at Jordan for long. Instead, he gripped his staff tightly and began the next step of the spell.

_“Amute spiritus obscure.”_ Stiles intoned, the Latin rolling off his tongue with ease. But then, he had practiced these words, over and over, to ensure he didn’t screw up. _“Te quaerimus, te aramus, nobiscum collaquere, apud nos circita.”_

There was suddenly a glowing white light. It streamed through the air, seeming to dance as it hovered above the grave. Stiles curled his hands tighter around his staff and pushed his power at the Orb of Thesulah. The spellwork on it flowed golden, then the white ball of light zipped into the Orb. The Orb of Thesulah glowed that same brilliant white for a moment, then both that and the gold-lit spellwork faded out.

With trembling fingers, Stiles picked the Orb up. He could _feel_ the soul trapped inside. “It worked.” He whispered, barely able to believe it. He laughed giddily, the sound high and a little bit hysterical. “It actually worked. Holy shit.”

“So what happens now?”

Stiles turned to Jordan and said seriously. “Now you pretend none of this happened. If the rest of what I have to do goes as well as this part did, we’re golden and you’ll know all about it really soon. If something goes wrong, then it’s over and in the past and we all go on denying we ever did any of this forever.”

He looked at Malia and added. “I’ll let you know when I need you again.”

“Of course.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ cheek, then brushed her fingers lightly over the name on the headstone with a thoughtful hum. A moment later, she was up and running, disappearing into the dark.

Jordan got to his feet, clearing his throat awkwardly. “If you wind up needing me for anything else...”

“I’ll ask.” Stiles carefully placed the now-occupied Orb of Thesulah back into its box, then blew out the candles and began cleaning up the other elements of the spell. “For now, I just need your promise of silence.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?”

“I love him.” Stiles said, still packing away spell detritus. “But that’s not why I started this. It has to be tried. I need to do everything in my power to undo the damage that was done twenty-five years ago, or Beacon Hills will never know peace and more lives will be lost. So loving him isn’t why I started this.”

He looked up at last, locking eyes with Jordan as he said solemnly. “But it’s why he can’t know unless I succeed. Do you understand that?”

“I do.” Jordan agreed quietly. “And I won’t tell him. I promise.”

Stiles went back to his clean-up, making certain that nothing remained; no hint of what he’d just done. As Jordan started to walk away, he called out. “Thank you.”

Jordan didn’t reply. But then, Stiles didn’t need him to.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the big Ritual Reveal Chapter!!!
> 
> Okay, so...before we start, there's a couple of things.
> 
> One: I actually updated the tags _before_ posting this chapter, because I wanted to make sure no one could click onto the new chapter before the tags went up. There are _several_ new tags and I'm asking that you guys take a peek if you're at all squeamish. If you choose not to look at the tags, don't come into the comments and bitch about what you found in the new chapter. I don't want to hear it, okay? Okay.
> 
> Two: You will get _so many_ answers in this chapter! There will be another chapter later that will give even more, but this chapter contains a lot of what you guys have been wondering/asking about, so I hope you all find it satisfying.
> 
> Three: I am _so fucking excited_ to see everyone's reactions to this chapter, so pretty please with sugar on top leave me comments so I know what you thought.
> 
> Four: This chapter is like, twice the length of the previous one. Maybe a little more. Just so you know.
> 
> Enjoy, my lovelies. Happy reading! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
> 
> ~ Sly

“I don’t usually commit crimes.”

Stiles huffed in amusement at Jordan’s cross declaration. “That’s because we don’t hang out nearly enough, buddy. Put it down next to the Nemeton, please. After that, you can go. It’s best if no one unnecessary is here for this.”

Jordan and Malia carefully lowered their burden, then Jordan inclined his head. “Next time I see you, Stiles...”

“I’ll introduce you.” Stiles promised. “Or we’ll never speak of it again. Either way, it’ll be over and there won’t be any more lying required.”

Jordan touched the dirty, lacquered wood lightly. “No second try?”

“Not for this.” Stiles nodded at the path. “Go on, then. Do yourself a huge favor and get the hell out of here. I’ll see you soon, one way or the other.”

Jordan left the clearing while Malia rested both hands on the same polished wood Jordan had just been touching. “If this works, do you think-”

“Not the time for speculation, Malia.” He touched the back of her hand lightly, giving her a sad smile. “I’m working to restore the natural balance here. There’s an intrinsic order at work and I don’t know enough yet to make a decision on what might upset that balance and what might repair it.” He met her damp eyes and added. “But if I can, you know I will.”

“Thank you.” Malia’s head snapped to the left suddenly. “Footsteps. Two sets.”

Stiles glanced at his watch. A quarter to three in the morning; right on time. He smiled at Malia. “Our other guests. It’s fine, Malia. Stand down.”

Deucalion was shoved into the clearing ahead of Peter. He was bound with the spell-enforced rope Stiles had created for Peter to use. He was also wearing a gag that was spelled to prevent him from being able to shift. As Peter prodded him further into the clearing, Stiles dropped the glamour masking the Nemeton’s new growth. Malia gasped while Deucalion reared back as though desperate to get away from the newly revived tree. Peter gave a shove that sent him sprawling at her base instead, near Stiles’ feet.

“Special delivery.” Peter drawled. “Hello, Malia, darling. Lovely night, isn’t it?”

“Hey, Peter.” Malia nudged Deucalion’s leg with her foot as she moved closer to Stiles. “Is this what we were waiting for?”

“Yup.” Stiles smiled at Peter. “Thanks for the help. We can take things from here.” When Peter opened his mouth - no doubt to object to being dismissed before things got interesting - Stiles gestured behind himself, to the dirt-encrusted mahogany box Jordan and Malia had carried through the woods for him. “If this goes wrong, you can’t be here. There’s some blood you don’t need on your hands, Peter, and I would _never_ ask.”

“Oh.” Peter swallowed hard, but nodded. “If it works, I probably shouldn’t be here, either. It could be...upsetting. Considering.” Peter sighed, eyes still locked on the dirty, polished wood. “You’ll let me know if I need to leave town?”

“That won’t happen.” He reached out to touch Peter’s arm. When Peter looked at him, he said firmly. “I’ll explain it to her. It’s going to be okay, no matter what. But I’m on a schedule and I need you to leave.”

Peter disappeared into the trees as Stiles got ready to do what had to be done. Alluria was encouraging and supportive. Malia was quietly watchful. And Deucalion...well, Deucalion seemed mostly afraid. Stiles couldn't really blame him for that. Stiles gestured for Malia to open the lid, then held out his hand for hers. She gave it without a word and, once again, Stiles used his athame to split the skin of her palm. She made a fist, blood spilling over the box’s contents.

“Blood of family, to bind and tie.” Stiles murmured. He tugged on Malia’s wrist so a bit of her blood spilled on the ground, for Alluria and the land. “To pack, to territory, and to one’s self.”

He called out with his magic and a young deer - spots faded but not gone - walked out of the trees. Stiles fed it a slice of apple and whispered. “Thank you for your sacrifice.” The yearling deer never flinched as Stiles slit its throat, letting blood spill onto the ground _and_ into the box. “Blood of the forest, sacrificed as payment. Life for life.”

He nodded to Malia, who hauled Deucalion to his knees. Stiles undid the spelled gag and said softly. “I need your alpha spark. I want you to know that I can take it from you without killing you, and pass it on to whomever I choose.”

“Alright.” Deucalion was flicking his eyes between the Nemeton and the now-bloody remains in the coffin he was kneeling beside. “I won’t fight. Take it.”

“You misunderstand.” Stiles hissed, cold fury washing over him. “I want you to know that I _can_ do that. I want you to know, because I want you to understand that killing you isn’t a necessary evil. It’s not a by-product of what I’m doing here. It’s a _choice._ Do you understand?”

“Why?” Deucalion asked, though his words weren’t pleading in the least, merely resigned. “You’ve forgiven Peter Hale for his sins. Why not me?”

“Because Boyd was the gentlest person in the world.” Stiles told him. “And Erica was my friend. Peter has paid for all of his sins. Paid long before he committed them, in fact. You? You got healed and set free without clearing your debts.”

Stiles fisted his hand in Deucalion’s hair and yanked the alpha’s head back, then swiftly drew the athame’s blade against his exposed throat. “Sorry, Deucalion. Your payment is long overdue.”

As Deucalion’s blood spilled into the coffin, Stiles grabbed the werewolf’s alpha spark and slammed it into the body, muttering. “Blood to bind a leader’s spark. Life to repay the ones he stole.” He let Deucalion’s body fall, the rest of his blood going to feed Alluria.

Stiles held the Orb of Thesulah above the body with one hand, his staff in the other, and began chanting in carefully practiced Latin._ “Anima corpori. Fuerit corpus totem resurgent.”_

There was a flash of blinding white light that emanated from the coffin. Stiles swore and drew back, fingers clenched tight around the Orb. He and Malia both shielded their eyes until the glow died down. Stiles opened his eyes to the sound of harshed, panicked breathing and immediately shoved both the Orb and his staff at Malia before reaching out and cupping pale cheeks in his hands.

“Shhh...” He crooned, doing his best to keep his voice low and soothing. “Hey, hey...you’re okay, I promise. My name is Stiles and you’re safe right now, I swear. I want you to listen to my heartbeat, can you do that? You. Are. Safe.”

Wild eyes - green and grey and gold, like Derek’s - met his, wide and frightened in her narrow face. She was pretty, Stiles realized, but in a harder way than Derek. More like Cora, and Malia, where sharp edges and a killer instinct made them beautiful and terrifying at the same time. She surged up towards him, her hands clutching the edges of her coffin, claws digging into the wood and eyes burning red in the near-dark of the clearing. Stiles didn’t flinch - though he did drop his own hands - when she stopped with her face within a breath of his own, inhaling deeply through her nose.

“Who are you?” She asked hoarsely, the red fading from her eyes as she took in his scent again. “And why...why do you smell like Derek? Where am I? What happened? I...I was...there was...”

She drew back from him, whimpering as she pressed now-clawless fingers to her temples, her face strained. “S-something...something’s wrong. I _died,_ didn’t I?”

“You did.” Stiles told her softly. He took the bottle of water Malia was holding out and twisted off the lid before offering it to the trembling alpha. “And I’ve brought you back. Your death wasn’t supposed to happen, and you’re needed. My name is Stiles. You might remember me as a kid. My dad is Sheriff Stilinski.”

She took the bottle and began drinking, taking small sips while absorbing Stiles’ answers to all of the questions she’d asked. “You’re in the Preserve, but once you’re steadier I’ll take you to Derek. He’s in Beacon Hills, safe and sound. I smell like him because we’re...” Stiles paused, but ultimately decided on a half-truth. “We’re friends. We were also pack, for a little while. I’m trying to get us back to that point, actually. Bringing you back is a step.”

“I can’t feel him.” A pale, trembling hand pressed to her breastbone and she gave him a grief-stricken look. “Why? Why can’t I feel him?” Her breathing sped up again; deep, heaving gulps as panic took over her body.

Stiles grabbed her hands. “Hey now, focus on me.” She met his eyes, still looking frantic, and he promised softly. “Derek is fine. I’m going to bring you to him. But your pack bond broke when you died. It’ll snap back into place as soon as he re-accepts you as his alpha. I swear it. Just breathe for me, okay?”

Laura Hale nodded, forcing herself to breathe in tandem with him. When she seemed a little steadier, she took another drink of water and asked. “How am I an alpha?”

“I needed you to be one.” Stiles explained. “The need for a Hale alpha is sort of why I brought you back in the first place. So I took an alpha spark from someone who killed some of my friends, and I put it inside of you. It feels okay?”

Laura nodded. “It feels fine. _I_ feel fine.” She touched her sternum again. “Who is it I’m feeling? There’s two bonds and I don’t recognize either of them.”

“Right. So, one is Alluria.” Stiles gestured to the tree. “You’d know her only by reputation because some Druids convinced your mother to kill her shortly after your birth. They failed, but that damage had a ripple-effect that ultimately wiped out the Hale pack. You’re the Hale alpha again, and your sacred duty is to protect Alluria, who is a Nemeton. You can feel her because part of bringing you back required that bond.”

“Okay.” Laura stared at Alluria for a moment, then looked back at him. “Are you the other bond I feel? Are you my Emissary now, Druid?”

“Mage.” Stiles corrected absently. “And no, I’m not your Emissary. _Yet._ We can discuss that more at a later date. The other bond is Malia, whose blood I used to bind you to Alluria and the Hale territory. She’s your cousin. Peter’s daughter.”

Laura startled, her body jerking sharply. “Peter! He...he woke up. And he...I met him, in the woods, and he-”

“I know.” Stiles cut her off, voice soft but firm. “Like I said, you weren’t supposed to die. It was an accident. Peter was feral, and injured, and pretty insane. He’s better now, and he’s atoned.”

“Has he?” Laura asked, voice wavering between angry and lost. “How? How does someone atone for killing family?”

“In several ways, one of which was helping to bring you back.” Stiles assured her. “He was invaluable to me. And he would never have hurt you on purpose. But Laura, you left him alone, when he was injured and had just lost most of his pack bonds. His madness...it wasn’t his fault. Talia’s attempt to destroy Alluria created it, and the fire set it free. He really is better now and, while I’m not asking for repayment for bringing you back...forgiving Peter would be appreciated.”

Laura nodded slowly. “I shouldn’t have left him, but I...I was just _so scared._ And I had to protect my brother. Derek, he...he was a mess. _I_ was a mess.” She dropped her eyes to her hands and whispered. “I suppose we all made mistakes, didn’t we? I never meant to fall so far short as an alpha. I just...I _tried,_ you know. I tried so hard...”

Stiles covered her hands with his own. “Now you have a chance to try again. And you’ll have help this time. Guidance. Let Peter and Alluria advise you.”

Laura didn’t respond to that right away, but that was okay. Stiles imagined she would need a little time to adjust to the changes. Instead, she looked over at Malia, who had yet to speak, and asked. “You’re Peter’s daughter?” Malia nodded and Laura rasped hoarsely. “How long was I dead for?”

“Oh god, no!” Stiles laughed tiredly. “No, no. Malia was given up for adoption because of...well, we don’t really know why, actually. But it might have had something to do with how young Peter was, when she was born. She’s a Hale by blood, but her name is Malia Tate.”

“Can you really turn into a wolf?” Malia asked. When Laura nodded, she smiled. “I’m a coyote. I mean, I can turn into a coyote. Fully. I’d like to run with you some time, if you don’t mind. No one else can do a full shift like me.”

“We can run during the full moon, if you like.” Laura offered. Then, she turned to look at Stiles again, raising one eyebrow. “You avoided my question. How long was I dead? And when can I see Derek? And, I suppose, Peter.” She frowned. “Wait, why did you need me, if Peter’s alive? Shouldn’t he be the Hale alpha?”

“Ah...he _was.”_ Stiles winced. “Then, he, uh...he died, and Derek was the Hale alpha. Then Peter came _back_ and later Derek sacrificed the alpha spark to save a life.”

Laura just stared at him expectantly, silently demanding more information, so Stiles blew out a breath and tried to give it to her, as concisely as possible. “Before I brought you back, there were eight supernaturals who were either born into the Hale pack or else bitten by a Hale alpha. Peter, Derek, and Malia all have no official alpha, though they affiliate with one. Scott - who Peter bit - is an alpha and thus not a Hale pack member anymore. Peter bit Lydia and activated her banshee powers, but she’s in Scott’s pack. Derek bit Jackson, who has an alpha in London, and Isaac, who is also now in Scott’s pack. With no Hale alpha, the Hale pack ceased to exist. I needed you back so we can fix that.”

“That’s only seven.” Laura said, staring hard at him. “Who’s the eighth?”

“Right. So. The eighth is in Argentina, with a pack who took her in.” Stiles wished he had a way to soften this news, but there really wasn’t one. “I know this is going to be hard to believe, but Derek and Peter can confirm it. And she’ll come home, of course, now that you’re back.”

Stiles took a deep breath, then just said it, because there was nothing else to do. “Someone else survived the fire. She came back while Derek was alpha and got attacked. During all of that, she suffered from mistletoe poisoning. Derek saved her, but it cost him the alpha spark.” He met Laura’s eyes and offered as gently as he could. “Your sister, Cora, is alive.”

“Oh my god...” Laura burst into tears, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed. It was several long minutes before she calmed enough to speak again. “You’re sure? You’ve seen her?”

“Yeah, hang on...” Stiles pulled out his phone and quickly flipped through his gallery, pulling up a photo of Cora and Derek from the previous Christmas. “Here. This is pretty recent.” Laura cradled the phone carefully, like it was something infinitely precious, so he offered. “When we get you a phone, I can send you that picture.”

“Thank you.” Laura whispered, handing the phone back. As she wiped away the tears still clinging to her eyelashes and cheeks, she added. “I’d like to see Derek now. And Peter. I’d like to see them both.”

“Right. Okay. Just...give me a minute.” Stiles smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “Just need to make some phone calls.”

He dialed Peter first. As soon as the beta picked up, Stiles was talking. “She wants to see you and Derek, so meet us at the loft in about an hour. And hey, do me a favor and get Cora on the next flight home. _Without_ telling her why. That’s definitely a conversation that needs to happen face-to-face.”

There was a pause, then Peter said. “Of course I’ll arrange everything for Cora’s return. But are you sure it’s a good idea for me to come tonight?”

Stiles raised his eyebrows at Laura, who immediately nodded. “She said she wants to see you, so I’m thinking you take the win, Peter. The loft, one hour.”

He disconnected the call before Peter could argue, then quickly called Derek. He listened to Derek’s groggy, cranky voice through the speaker. “I swear to god, Stiles, if you’re drunk-dialing me, I will rip your throat out with my teeth.”

Stiles couldn't help laughing at the old threat. It left his voice fond as he said. “No, I’m sober as a judge right now.” He considered his next words for a moment. “I’m sorry to wake you up but I need to come over.”

“Now?” Derek groaned in annoyance. “Seriously? It’s three-thirty in the morning. I have to be up for work at six. Can’t you wait?”

“I can, but the situation can’t.” Stiles said apologetically.

“What situation?”

And yeah; Derek sounded a lot more alert and a lot less cross now. Stiles took a leap of faith and said. “I’ve been working with Alluria on something. And I know you’re already glaring, but suck it up, okay? It’s done and I’ll be at your place in about an hour to explain everything. Peter’s going to come, too.” He paused, then added. “Don’t freak out, either. No one is hurt or in danger, okay?”

Derek sighed in his ear, then said softly. “Just get here, Stiles. Whatever you did, we’ll deal with it together.”

“Okay.” Stiles sighed as well. “Yeah, okay. See you soon.” He hung up quickly, before Derek could say anything else. He wasn’t sure if Laura knew that Derek was bisexual, and Stiles wasn’t going to let him accidentally out himself to his sister if she didn’t.

After stashing his phone in his pocket, Stiles reached into his bag, fishing out the clothing he’d put in there earlier. He held out a pair of sweatpants and a henley to Laura with a wan smile. “They won’t fit great or anything, but they’re clean and they’ll keep you from getting arrested for indecent exposure, at least.”

Laura pulled on the shirt, breathing deeply as she tugged it over her head. “These smell like Derek.” She climbed carefully out of the coffin, then stepped into the pants.

“I thought a familiar scent might help.” Stiles said, picking up his staff and the bag Malia had repacked with all of the spell elements while he’d dealt with Laura. “I wasn’t sure what sort of state you’d be in when you came back.”

Malia cleared her throat awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Laura. Really. But family meetings aren’t really my speed, so I’m going to take off for now. We can get to know each other soon.”

Laura nodded and Stiles kissed Malia’s cheek before waving her towards the trees. “Thanks for all your help. I’ll text you later.”

“Bye, Stiles.”

Malia took off into the trees at a run and Stiles sighed again before heading in the opposite direction from the werecoyote. “Come on then, Laura. Let’s go see Derek.” As he led the alpha out of the clearing, Alluria sent waves of joy at him.

“Was...was that _the tree?”_ Laura asked him in shock.

“Yeah.” Stiles gave her an exhausted smile. “And we can totally play twenty questions tomorrow, regarding Alluria or anything else. Just...not right now, okay? All I care about at the moment is bringing you to Derek.”

“Fair enough.” Laura agreed, walking along beside him with ease even though she was barefoot. “But tomorrow, I expect answers.”

“Fantastic.” Stiles climbed over a fallen tree, then mumbled. “Two and a half years.”

Laura paused, then stared at Stiles as they kept walking. “I beg your pardon?”

Stiles ducked his head, but gave Laura the honesty she deserved. “You asked me how long you’ve been dead. A little more than two and a half years.”

“Oh.” Laura huffed. “Well, then.” She looked at her hands, then shoved up the sleeves of her shirt to study her arms before humming thoughtfully. “I look pretty damned good for a rotting corpse.”

“You look _awesome_ for somebody who was cut in half.” Stiles replied, laughing as she tugged the shirt up to peer down at her midsection. “Not even a scar, I promise. The spell worked perfectly.”

Laura glanced over at him, looking thoughtful. “I’m betting there was a pretty high risk involved here. A chance I’d come back wrong. Right?”

“That would be why Malia stayed.” Stiles admitted. “In case I needed help putting you back down.” He hesitated for a moment, then added softly. “And it’s why I didn’t tell Derek or Cora I was trying this. They didn’t need to lose you twice.”

Laura nodded. “But you told Peter.”

“I needed him.” Stiles shrugged. “But it’s why I wouldn’t let him stay while I tried the spell. I don’t think he could have survived spilling your blood a second time, no matter how necessary it was.”

They walked in silence for several minutes, then - very softly - Laura said. “You’re a very kind person, Stiles. Thank you. For bringing me back, and for looking after my family. My _pack._ That’s a debt I can never repay.”

“There’s no debt owed for it.” Stiles assured her. “I love them. Even Peter, though I might deny it if anyone asks.” Laura laughed and Stiles grinned at her. “Like I said, they were my pack once. We’re good.”

“Why aren’t they now?”

“I can’t belong to an alpha who isn’t connected to Alluria.” Stiles explained. “I’ve been bound to her for a while, though I only started to understand it recently. Alluria needs a Hale alpha, because she was given life by Hale wolves and Nemetons are loyal to bloodlines. So I can only belong to a pack ruled by a Hale alpha. When there wasn’t one, Alluria became the only bond I have.”

Laura reached out and rubbed her hand over the back of his neck. “We’ll need to talk about it, as you said, but you’ll be pack again.” She smiled at Stiles as she finished scenting him. “I was told years ago that I was meant to have a Mage as my Emissary one day. Now that I’m sure it’s you, the rest is just details.”

Stiles figured he could live with that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway point! Whoo!
> 
> So sorry about posting a day late; the sproglet (my son) was home sick on Thursday (he's still sick, actually) and it just threw my whole week off and I somehow completely forgot that yesterday was Friday. Oops?
> 
> But here's Derek and Laura's reunion (Laura and Peter's, too), so rejoice. ^_^
> 
> Next chapter, we'll get back to some of the subplot stuff and you guys can start trying to figure out the _Monster of the Week_ even as Stiles does the same. And soon enough we'll get to introduce Laura to everybody else, so that'll be fun.
> 
> I hope you're all enjoying this so far. Leave me some love in the comments so I know what you think! As ever, new tags were added with the chapter, though nothing triggering/worrisome this round.❤️
> 
> ~ Sly

Derek glared at Peter. “Just tell me what he did, dammit!” He knew Stiles had said no one was hurt or in danger, but he couldn't erase the fear gripping his heart.

“I refuse to ruin the surprise.” Peter drawled, looking smug as he lounged on the couch. “He worked very hard on this and deserves the payoff moment. So do your boy a favor and be patient for a few more minutes.”

When Derek looked at him, some of his panic must have showed on his face, because Peter’s face softened with sympathy. “It’s nothing bad, Derek. If you believe nothing else, believe that. Stiles is a force of good in the world.”

Derek leaned against the wall, tired and anxious and miserable. “I know that. But I think we both know that good things tend to go very, _very_ bad around me.”

The sound of footsteps brought Derek’s head up. There were two sets, which put Derek on high alert because Stiles hadn't mentioned anyone else. The door opened and Stiles stepped in alone. Derek could hear the second heartbeat in the hallway, but whoever it was stayed out there. He stilled as Stiles walked slowly over to him, not speaking. Something was different, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what.

“Hey, big guy. I need you to trust me, okay?” Derek nodded, and Stiles continued cautiously. “I want you to smell me.”

Derek frowned, but did as he was asked. Stiles smelled like he always did. Like loam and green, growing things and petrichor. He smelled more strongly of ozone than normal, which made sense if he’d been using magic. He could pick out other scents as well. The scents of Peter, Malia, and Jordan were layered over him. Deer. Blood. _Deucalion,_ which Derek was absolutely going to demand answers about. And someone else. Another wolf, heavily, as though they had recently been scenting Stiles.

“Who is that?” Derek asked, leaning in closer for a better sniff. It smelled familiar, like Cora had even after so many years apart. It smelled safe, like home and pack. Floral, but not like wolfsbane. Lighter, like honeysuckle and spring air and sunshine.

He reared back suddenly, eyes glowing blue, claws out and fangs dropping as he finally placed who the scent belonged to. “H-how...?”

“It’s okay.” Stiles promised, voice low and soothing. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m going to have her come in now, alright? Just breathe for me.”

Derek’s eyes flew to the doorway just as his sister walked through. She was exactly the way he remembered her. Dark hair that always had these loose, wavy curls in it spilling around her shoulders, and her wide, full mouth curved into a grin. She was wearing baggy sweatpants and a too-large henley, but she was still so damned beautiful. He couldn't breathe. The room spun dizzily and his legs went weak beneath him. He slid slowly down the wall, never taking his eyes off of her as she crossed the loft, then crouched beside him.

“Hey, Der-bear.” She smiled at him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Did you miss me?”

Derek sobbed, throwing himself forward. He wound his arms around her slim waist, and buried his face in her stomach. “Shhh...” She crooned, stroking his hair gently. “I know. I know, Der-bear. I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry. I never meant to leave you alone. I would never have hurt you that way. Can you forgive me?”

Long minutes passed before Derek felt calm enough to lift his head. He stared at Laura with wide eyes, then he leaned in until their foreheads touched and rubbed their noses together. “God, I missed you. We were never meant to be away from each other, Laura. And of course I forgive you.”

“I’m sorry.” Laura repeated, laughing when Derek pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled her neck. “I missed you, too, little brother. And I miss feeling you, so let’s correct that.”

Derek let her reposition his head so they were staring into each other’s eyes. Laura’s eyes flashed red and Derek automatically flashed his in return. He couldn't contain a gasp as he felt their pack bond snap back into place, along with the faint hints of two others. One, he could tell, was Malia. The other he didn’t recognize. And, honestly, he didn’t care who it was. Because there was one again a strong cord tying him to his alpha - to _Laura _\- and nothing could have been better.

“You look exactly the way I remember you.” He told her, reaching out and tugging on a curl. “I mean, _exactly_ the same.”

“You don’t.” Laura replied. She ran her fingers over his stubble, grinning. “You look all tough and rugged, not like my baby-faced little brother.” Her smile dropped and she added more seriously. “You look older.”

“That’s because you didn’t age while you were dead.” Stiles explained. Derek startled a little, having forgotten he and Laura weren’t alone. “So you’re still barely twenty-two.”

“And I’ll be twenty-five in a few months.” Derek said, shocked. Pain laced his next words. “We...we’re not twins anymore.”

Laura scoffed. “Bullshit. We’ll always be twins. And I’m still the older twin, no matter what anyone says. I was born first and dead people technicalities can kiss my ass.”

Derek had to laugh at that. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.” He touched her hair again, then whispered. “I still can’t believe you’re here.” A sudden thought made him feel sick. “For...for how long?”

“For the rest of her life.” Stiles answered. “It’s not a temporary spell. I wouldn’t be that cruel, to either of you. She gets to stay.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” Laura laughed. Then, she said. “Peter, you can stop lurking and come say hello. I’m not angry. Stiles explained everything, including that you helped him bring me back.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him and added. “Come and greet your alpha, Uncle. I’d really like to feel _all_ of my betas, as soon as possible.”

As Peter slowly approached, Laura stood to face him. She cupped his face as soon as he was close enough and let her eyes burn red. Derek watched Peter’s eyes flash blue, then felt it as Peter’s bond joined the others. Laura leaned in to rest her forehead against Peter’s, one hand sliding around to rub her palm over his neck, scenting him. Derek watched, slowly getting to his feet as well.

Peter’s voice was choked when he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Laura told him as she drew back. “But we’ll do better this time. All of us. You called Cora?”

“She’ll be here by dinner time.” Peter said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You two are going to be an interesting mix.”

Derek was about to agree when Stiles cleared his throat. “I’ll pick her up from the airport. Make sure she has a little heads-up before she’s face-to-face with Laura, like I did for Derek. You’ll text me the details of her flight?”

“Absolutely.” Peter agreed, smiling at Stiles. “Thank you. For Laura. For Alluria. It’s more than any Hale has a right to expect, after what was done.”

“You tried to stop it.” Derek had no idea what Stiles was talking about, though he listened intently, fully planning to ask questions as soon as they were alone. “And Alluria would never blame innocent children for their mother’s crime. Neither would I. She only wants to help the land - and the Hale pack - heal. I’m happy to help her accomplish that.”

Laura pulled Stiles into a quick hug, nuzzling his cheek with her own. “Thank you. You’ll tell me everything soon, but for now...thank you.” When she drew back, she raised an eyebrow at Derek. “Don’t be rude now, Der-bear. Thank our future Emissary for bringing me back.”

“The hell with that.” Derek growled as he pulled Stiles away from his sister, spinning them both until he had Stiles pinned to the wall, one hand curled around the front of the younger man’s throat. “You used the Nemeton to do this?”

“Jesus Christ, Derek, what the hell?” Laura gasped, but Derek ignored her, focused on Stiles. “Seriously, are you crazy? Let him go! His dad’s the Sheriff, for fuck’s sake.”

“And Derek’s a deputy.” Stiles panted, his head tipped back to lessen the pressure on his throat. He met Derek’s eyes as best he could. “It was Alluria’s idea. I wasn’t sure I could manage it, though _she_ was confident. I didn’t want to tell you, in case it went wrong. I didn’t want to put you through that for nothing.”

Derek slid his hand from Stiles’ throat up to catch his chin. Then, he leaned down and caught Stiles’ mouth in a hard kiss. When they broke apart, he rasped. “I love you. And I’m going to thank that damned tree. But I will _never_ call you _Emissary.”_

Stiles laughed, winding his arms around Derek’s neck. “Oh? Why not?”

“Because.” Derek growled, nipping Stiles’ bottom lip teasingly before he continued. “I’m planning to call you _mate_ instead.”

“You’re an asshole.” Stiles chided. “Laura almost had a heart attack when you pinned me like that. She’s not used to the way you show me affection.”

“You could have told me you were dating my brother.” Laura said, halfway between amused and exasperated. “You’re kind of an asshole, too.”

“Yup.” Stiles popped the _P_ loudly, a cheeky grin on his face. “But I actually didn’t know if you knew Derek was into dudes too, and I didn’t want to out him.”

Derek huffed in amusement. “Laura knew almost as soon as I did.” He rumbled happily as he rubbed his cheek against Stiles’, ignoring the younger man’s squawk of protest as his stubble chafed Stiles’ face. “Call your dad. There’s no way I’m going in to work today.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but pulled out his phone when Derek released him. As Stiles dialed, Derek picked Laura up, spinning as he hugged her. His twin’s laughter - a sound he’d thought was lost to him forever - was like music to his ears.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only a single new tag with this chapter, and it's not a big one, lol.
> 
> I'd call this chapter filler, except it's not really. There's some stuff going on. Just...not the _big_ stuff, lol.
> 
> Next chapter, you'll get to see Cora again, though. ^_^ I hope everyone enjoys this small interlude. And hey, feel free to try to guess the _Monster of the Week._
> 
> I've had a rough week ((between being sick, family/holiday stuff, and some behavioral issues with the sproglet)) so comments would be greatly appreciated. They really do make my day better.
> 
> ~ Sly
> 
> ~ Sly

Stiles couldn't stop grinning as the phone rang, watching Derek and Laura. Even Peter looked younger; more relaxed; happier. His dad’s voice in his ear drew his attention. “Stiles. Please tell me you’re with Derek right now.”

Derek froze as Stiles sobered up fast. “I am. He’s listening. What happened?”

“Another body with the same M.O. was just found. I’m at the scene now and it’s fresh, unlike the last two, so I’m hoping he can pick up a trail if he gets here now.”

Stiles didn’t hesitate. “Text the address. We’re leaving now and we’re bringing some backup, in case there’s more than one trail.” When his dad started to protest, he added. “And an alpha, in case the trail is too faint for Derek. Don’t waste time arguing. Just text me the address.”

“Okay, kiddo.” The sheriff sighed in his ear. “You make a good argument. Body’s in the alley next to Jungle. Get here fast.”

Stiles hung up, then went into his _crime-solving-leader_ mode without a second thought. “Everybody in the jeep. Peter, get Malia there in coyote form. Laura, I need you as a wolf.” He yanked open a drawer and pulled out two collars and leashes, tossing one set to Peter. “Sorry for the indignity, but Peter and Malia do consult work for the Sheriff’s Department as a canine unit. We’ll use the same cover for you and say I’m interning with Peter for the summer.”

Laura was already shimmying out of her sweatpants. “Works for me.” She yanked her shirt off as Peter talked into his phone, telling Malia where to meet them.

Between one blink and the next, Laura shifted into an enormous black wolf. “Perfect.” Stiles praised, crouching down to fasten the collar around her neck. Peter tossed him a vest next and Stiles huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, we’re gonna need to order some bigger vests. Laura’s bigger than Malia. For now, we’ll just fake it.”

He secured it around her neck, letting it sort of drape over her back. “Just don’t shake it off and we should be good.”

Laura rumbled agreeably as Derek came down the stairs, his belt - gun and all - slung over his shoulder, still buttoning his uniform shirt. “Alright, let’s go. I want to catch whatever’s dropping bodies before it kills again.”

“Malia will meet us and I’ll suit her up on-site.” Peter said, already striding towards the loft’s door. “Stiles, are you driving or filling Laura in on the ride?”

Stiles chucked his keys at Peter, who caught them without even turning around. “You drive. I’ll give her the breakdown.”

When they reached the jeep, Derek took shotgun while Stiles got in the back with Laura. He did his best to explain what little he knew about the bodies, then launched into a quick rundown of the police force, and who knew what about the supernatural. They pulled up behind a cruiser with its lights still going and Stiles slid out, turning to clip the leash onto Laura. Malia darted up in coyote form and Peter had her in a collar and vest in seconds, leash securing her right after.

Stiles nodded. “Okay. We’ll follow Derek into the crime scene, then Peter and I will fan out with you and Malia. Let me know if you smell anything.”

His dad met them at the edge of the crime scene, raising an eyebrow at Stiles even as he lifted the yellow tape sectioning the end of the alley off so they could pass under it. “And who’s the new member of Peter’s team?”

“Well, I’m his summer intern.” Stiles said, grinning when Noah rolled his eyes. “And _this_ is the new alpha female I mentioned on the phone. Her name’s Laura and we’ll talk about that later, I swear.”

Noah’s eyes widened, but he nodded and waved them all through. Stiles went left with Laura while Peter took Malia to the right. He didn’t try to guide the werewolf, instead letting Laura go where she deemed necessary. As she got closer to the body, she sneezed, then growled. Peter brought Malia over, and she immediately sneezed, too.

Derek joined them, as did Noah. Both male werewolves were twitching their noses and it had Stiles asking. “Wolfsbane?”

“No.” Derek rubbed his nose, frowning. “It smells cold. Numbing, almost. I don’t know if I could follow it without getting disoriented.”

“Agreed.” Peter muttered, sounding cross. “There’s something vaguely familiar about it, but I don’t know what.”

Malia yipped in agreement, shifting away from the scent-trail, so Stiles looked at Laura. “What about you, then? Think you can track it or are we dead in the water here?”

Laura rumbled, then started tugging Stiles along. “I guess we’re giving it a shot. Alright, then. Let’s go.”

He followed Laura out of the alley, up the block, and then into the street. He dad kept pace with them, silent. She led them up to a storm drain set in the curb, then growled. Noah crouched down next to it, shining his flashlight inside for a moment.

When he clicked the light back off, he was grimacing. “Well, damn. Even when the crime is weird, I always hope it’s going to be a normal, human criminal.” He gestured to the opening of the storm drain and added. “Pretty sure a normal person couldn't disappear down that”

“It’s a pretty narrow opening.” Stiles agreed, crouching down as well. “I can’t think of a whole lot of supernatural creatures that can fit down there who would also be _willing_ to go into a sewer. This might actually help us narrow our suspect pool, especially factoring in the neurotoxin.”

Without much thought, Stiles ran his hand along the inside edges of the storm drain’s opening. Noah made a face at him. “Really, Stiles? You aren’t even wearing gloves.”

“I’ll wash my hands.” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. Then his fingers touched something thin and dry and papery. He pulled it out and swore. “Dammit. We’d better not have another lizard-shifter on our hands. I can_not_ deal with that bullshit again.”

“What did you find?”

Stiles looked up to find Peter - still holding Malia’s leash - with Derek and Jordan right behind him. Silently, Stiles held up the strip of shed, scaly skin he’d found. Whatever was hunting in Beacon Hills - and he really did hope it wasn’t another kanima - it was definitely reptilian. Stiles wasn’t looking forward to this at all. Judging by everyone else’s faces...they weren't either.

~*~*~*~

“You look good.” Stiles said, pulling bags out of the back of the jeep. “And, as you saw, no one seems to notice when supposedly dead people come back to life, so we’re golden.”

“That is both handy and disturbing.” Laura admitted, grabbing bags as well and following Stiles into the building. As Stiles let them into the loft, she said. “We’re going to need a bigger place.”

Stiles looked at Laura in confusion. “What, the building’s not big enough for you? We hosted a damned rave in here once.”

Laura blinked. “Wait. Derek doesn’t rent? He...he _owns_ the whole building?” Stiles nodded, dropping bags on the dining room table. Laura whistled. “Alright, then. Makes things easier. Probably more practical than a pack House, too. I’ll pick out a unit for myself today and start moving into it, well...as soon as I have stuff to move in, I guess. Peter and Cora can do the same.”

Laura set her bags down as well, grinning at Stiles. “I’d normally offer to let you pick a unit for yourself, but I think we both know where you’ll wind up living.”

“Fair enough.” Stiles started separating the groceries from the clothes and shoes and things they’d picked up for Laura. “You hungry? I can cook, or we can order in. Your call.”

“Can we go to the diner?” Laura asked, looking up from the clothes she’d started removing tags from and folding. “I want a big ass burger, curly fries, and a goddamn milkshake.”

Stiles laughed, delighted. “Absolutely. We just have to throw the cold stuff in the fridge and then we can head out.” Laura immediately started grabbing bags of food before heading for the kitchen, which had him laughing again. He followed her, saying aloud. “A woman after my own heart.”

Working together, it didn’t take them long to get everything put away. As they headed back out, Stiles grabbed Derek’s keys, shaking them at Laura. “What do you say we take the Camaro instead?”

Laura took the keys with a grin. When they got to the car, she stroked her hands over the hood of the car lovingly. “Hey, sweetheart. Did you miss me?”

“That’s right.” Stiles said as he slid into the passenger seat. “She was yours before she was Derek’s, wasn’t she?”

“She was.” Laura stroked the steering wheel, then turned the car on and shifted it into gear. “I imagine I’ll need a new one now that I’m back.”

“Derek loved her because she was yours.” Stiles told her softly. “He’s got you back. Pretty sure he’ll be okay with you taking your car back. He drives the Toyota Cruiser most of the time, anyway.”

Laura shrugged, expertly navigating her way to the diner. But then, Beacon Hills never changed much and Laura _had_ grown up there. “We’ll see what happens. If he wants to keep her, I won’t fight him on it. I might get another car anyway and he and I can just share the Camaro.”

“If you get another car, Cora might try to steal this one.” Stiles said, making Laura laugh.

They drove in silence after that. When they pulled into the diner’s parking lot, Stiles said. “If it gets to be too much, for any reason...”

“I’ll let you know.” Laura promised. “Now come on. I’m starving.” There wasn’t much Stiles could do but follow her inside.

~*~*~*~

Laura was dipping curly fries in her chocolate shake when two people approached the booth she and Stiles had claimed. One was a young man with curly, dirty-blonde hair and a sweet, cherubic face who smelled like a wolf. The other was a formidable young woman with red hair and wide hazel eyes. She was wearing a pretty blue sundress that showed off a body that was likely to inspire worship, and a pair of killer heels that Laura was instantly envious of. Her red-slicked mouth was curved up into a smile that Laura figured had brought a lot of people to their knees. The guy was muscular - most shifters were - but _she_ was the dangerous one. Of that, Laura had no doubts.

She glanced towards the bathroom, but there was no sign of Stiles. Deciding she’d just have to take care of this herself, Laura put on a bored expression and raised an eyebrow at them as they stopped next to the booth. “Can I help you?” She drawled indolently.

“That depends.” The redhead replied coldly. “On how fast you plan to leave Beacon Hills.”

Laura smirked, refusing to be intimidated in her own territory. Running scared hadn't worked for her at sixteen and she wasn’t planning on repeating her mistakes. “I’m actually in the process of settling into town.”

“I think you’ll find that to be a bad idea.” The redhead crossed her arms and gazed coolly at Laura. “We tend to be a rather unwelcoming town, a fact which you’ll discover firsthand if you don’t leave on your own.”

_“Lydia!”_ The guy hissed, cheeks pink. “We’re not supposed to make threats.”

Laura’s shoulders relaxed immediately, her sneer replaced by a cheerful grin as she figured out who these two were and which pack they belonged to. “Lydia? So you’re the banshee, then. Which makes you...Isaac, right?”

Laura turned her attention fully to the guy as she continued. “You’re not an alpha, so you definitely aren’t Scott.” Her teeth flashed as she smiled again. “And I don’t remember Stiles mentioning any other betas belonging to Alpha McCall.”

Isaac smiled back, visibly relaxing as well. “Yeah, I’m Isaac. Isaac Lahey. This is Lydia Martin. Sorry for her rudeness. We’ve had issues with strange wolves in our territory before so she’s over-cautious.”

“You’ve had trouble because it’s not your territory.” Laura explained with a sympathetic look. “It’s mine, so it simply won’t behave properly for you. But I do thank you for keeping an eye on it for me. That was good of you.”

“Excuse me?” Lydia snapped, visibly bristling. “Listen here, bitch. I don’t know who the hell you are, but this is Scott McCall’s territory and-”

“No, it’s not.” Laura cut her off, firmly but not aggressively. “I’m not trying to fight with you, but the fact is that Beacon Hills belongs to the Hales. It has belonged to the Hales since before there was a town. Before the wolves here had a last name at all. Before any of _your_ ancestors set foot on this country’s soil. Scott McCall can’t claim Hale land for himself. It’s mine, and the land itself knows it.”

She spotted Stiles coming and smiled again. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to lunch with my future Emissary.”

“I think you mean future brother-in-law.” Stiles laughed, stepping around the others to slide into the booth across from Laura. “You know Derek considers _us_ to be the more important relationship to tell people about.”

Laura snickered. “Which is precisely why I’m going to keep calling you my future Emissary instead.” She nudged him under the table with her foot. “Though I did mean to ask if you plan on taking the Hale name, when the time comes. Dad did, you know.”

“Stiles...” Lydia sounded deadly. “Who is this?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Stiles rolled his eyes at himself. “Lydia, Isaac...I’d like you both to meet the rightful alpha of Beacon Hills. Laura, Lydia is our resident banshee and Isaac is one of Derek’s former betas, though he’s now a member of the McCall pack.”

Laura nodded. “Yeah, I figured out who they were pretty fast.” She looked at Isaac again and added. “I’d like to extend an invitation to all of Derek’s former betas, by the way. They were bitten by a Hale alpha, so they’re welcome in the Hale pack, of course.”

“What did you do?”

Stiles raised his eyebrows at Lydia’s hissed whisper, then said coldly. “I started the process to restore balance and peace to the territory. Talia damaged the land’s magic and everyone has suffered since. As a Mage, particularly one bound to the land, my duty is to fix what she broke.”

“I’m super grateful, by the way.” Laura neatly bit her pickle spear in half, grinning. “The Hale pack is forever in your debt, Stiles. Which is why I’m so thrilled to have you as Derek’s mate. Gives us a whole lifetime to repay you.”

“If I get to keep Derek, we can call it even.” Stiles teased, making Laura laugh again. “But no, really. You know I’d do it again, without hesitation. No payment necessary.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need more information than that, Stiles.” Lydia snapped. “Also, does Scott know about this?”

“Not yet.” Stiles said. “Cora will be here in a few hours, and we’re having a family dinner to let her and Laura reconnect. But I suppose we can set up a meeting for some time after that, to bring everyone else up to speed. Tomorrow might work.”

“Like a pack meeting?” Isaac asked.

“Sort of.” Laura said. “An inter-pack gathering to share information and talk about what’s going to change now that I’m back isn’t a bad idea.” She glanced at Stiles. “Can we get Derek, Jordan, and Noah there at the same time?”

Stiles hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, Dad can make it work. Even if one or two of them is supposed to be on-shift, Beacon Hills is pretty quiet in between murders and we just had a body drop so we should be okay for a few days.”

“Fine.” Lydia pursed her lips at Stiles in annoyance. “Text the details of the meeting to all of us and we’ll be there.”

“Perf.” Laura chirped, adding. “When we’re done talking business, you can tell me where you got those shoes from. Derek didn’t keep my wardrobe, so I need some serious retail time.”

“I’ll consider it.”

And Laura figured that was as close to approval or acceptance as she was likely to get from Lydia. At least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding this A/N to give you guys a link to Ravenclawkward's fanart for this piece, so please go check it out! It's a lovely picture of [Laura and Derek](https://ravenclawkward-art.tumblr.com/post/190517064156/hale-siblings-from) together! I especially love Laura's shirt. ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
> 
> ~ Sly


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So, here's the latest chapter. ^_^ ((Thank you, Liz, for being the reason this went up on-time today as I had definitely forgotten.))
> 
> This contains Cora Hale's reunion with Laura. There's some Hale Family Bonding moments, and some feels, but nothing major. It's also a fairly short chapter, which I'd apologize for except for the fact that the _next_ chapter is kind of ridiculously long. So, it balances out and there really wasn't a better way to divide it. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also, we're almost to the smut-chapter! I'm very excited about this fact. ^_^
> 
> As-ever, comments are my life's blood and thrill me to pieces. Especially at this time of year, when life is hectic and things are especially difficult for me, due to personal stuff. So any love would be greatly appreciated, and I always reply to every single comment I get.
> 
> Happy Reading! 💖 💖 💖
> 
> ~ Sly

Cora slid into the passenger seat of the jeep after tossing her bag into the back. She was tan, and as gorgeous as ever, but she looked tense and anxious as she buckled her seatbelt. “Hey, Cora.” Stiles said quietly as he shifted the jeep out of park and headed back towards Beacon Hills. “Long flight?”

“No longer than usual.” Cora replied, fiddling with her phone.

Stiles let the silence stretch between them. If he’d learned anything about dealing with the Hales, it was that pushing - especially emotionally - was a bad idea. So he waited, focusing on driving. Cora would talk when she was ready. Better to let her come to him than to risk her shutting him out. Stiles needed her open and listening if he was going to explain about Laura.

They made it almost to Beacon Hills before she said anything. The road was lined on either side by the Preserve and Stiles could feel the land reaching out for Cora; wanting the last of the living Hales to reconnect as the others have. Alluria had greeted him softly when they’d crossed the border into Hale territory a few miles back. And now, it seemed Cora was ready to talk.

“Peter wouldn’t say what was going on. He just said I had to come.” Cora’s voice was small; young and laced with fear. “And when I tried to call Derek, he just said I’d understand when I got here. Is it...” She took a weak breath, then whispered. “How bad is it?”

Stiles didn’t hesitate; he immediately pulled the jeep onto the shoulder and threw it in park before twisting in his seat to look at Cora. She was crying and Stiles shushed her softly. “Hey, hey...shhh, it’s okay. It’s not bad.” He ducked down a little to meet her lowered eyes and insisted. “I swear it, Cora. We brought you home for good news.”

Cora bit her lip, wiping away tears before asking. “What is it? What kind of good news means I have to be _here?_ Because you know how much it hurts me.”

“The kind of good news we’re hoping will make you stay.” Stiles pulled the henley Laura had worn that morning out of the console and held it out. “Smell this. Trust what it tells you. Then, when you’re ready, I’ll take you to the loft.”

Cora looked at him strangely, then brought the fabric to her nose and inhaled. Her brow furrowed as she took a second breath, trying to place the scent, the same way Derek had. But it had been longer since Cora had smelled it. Stiles was just hoping she’d remember. When tears spilled down her cheeks and her shoulders shook with sobs, Stiles knew she did.

“I miss her. _So_ much.” Cora told him, clinging to the fabric like it meant everything. “If I hadn't run away, I could have had six more years with her. And if she’d had another beta, maybe she would have been strong enough to control Peter.”

“None of what happened was your fault.” Stiles promised. “And Laura doesn’t blame you. But I think we both know you need to hear that from _her,_ not me. Are you ready for that?”

Cora stared at him with her wide, brown eyes. “You mean that. No...no uptick in your heart. You aren’t lying.” Her fingers tightened on the fabric until her knuckles were white. “L-laura? It’s really her? But how? I...really?”

“Really.” Stiles assured her. “I’ve been working to restore the balance here in Beacon Hills and it required a Hale alpha. Laura’s death was a direct result of that upset balance. It should never have happened. So, I undid it. And she’s eager to see you again.”

“Okay.” Her voice was hoarse, but she was nodding. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

Stiles nodded and pulled back onto the road.

~*~*~*~

Stiles led Cora into the loft, her hand clinging to his own. Peter was by the windows. Derek was in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a dish towel; he’d clearly been cooking. Laura stood up from the couch, eyes wide and mouth trembling as she stared at Cora. Cora stared back, and Stiles could feel her shaking beside him. He squeezed her hand, then let go. She took a few steps forward - towards Laura - then stopped. She sobbed, sinking to her knees. Laura was at her side instantly.

“Shhh, shhh...” Laura crooned, pulling her baby sister onto her lap despite them being almost the same size. “I’m sorry, Cor-cor. I’m _so_ sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Cora drew back, staring at Laura in shock. “F-forgive _you?_ What are you talking about? I ran away! I ran, and I hid, and I didn’t come back for _years._ I didn’t go to the meeting spot to look for other pack. I didn’t go to the police. It’s _my_ fault you and Derek believed I was dead. It was my fault for not doing what I was supposed to.”

“No. God, Cora..._no.”_ Laura pulled her close again, stroking over her dark hair and hugging her tightly. “I should have looked. For you. For _anyone._ I should have stayed on our land, so you would have heard there were still Hales and known that you could come back. I abandoned our territory. _I_ ran away. And, as alpha, that was the biggest failure possible.”

Cora sobbed again and clung to Laura, who kissed her hair and asked. “Can you forgive me? I never meant to leave you behind, I swear. I never meant to leave you.”

“I forgive you.” Cora whispered, nuzzling her cheek against Laura’s. “Of course I forgive you. You’re back, so how could I not?”

Laura drew back enough to rest her forehead against Cora’s, one hand hovering over the nape of her sister’s neck. “Can I?”

Cora nodded. “Please.”

Laura’s eyes flashed red, her palm rubbing against Cora’s neck as the beta’s flashed gold. Cora smiled, mouth trembling just a little. “Thank you. I...I can feel you. You, and Derek, and Peter, and Malia.” Her brow furrowed as she added questioningly. “And...?”

“And Alluria.” Laura explained softly. “Our Nemeton.”

Stiles watched as Derek stiffened for a moment before relaxing. Seeing Cora’s uneasy face, he felt the need to jump in. “We’re having a big meeting tomorrow where I’ll explain everything, but suffice it to say that Alluria helped bring Laura back. She’s going to help me stabilize the territory, too. So we’re going to have to work on getting everybody past this mistrust of her.”

Cora looked at Laura, then smiled at Stiles. “She gave me back my sister. For that, I will _always_ love her.”

Stiles had to hand it to the Hales. Family - _pack _\- mattered above everything. If nothing else, it made his job easier.

~*~*~*~

Derek leaned against a wall, watching as Laura rolled sunset-red paint over a wall. She was humming as she worked, her dark curls pulled back from her face in a messy ponytail. She finished the wall and took a step back to survey her handywork, hands resting lightly on her hips. Derek had to admit, it looked good and the bold color suited his sister. She turned to find him watching her, and immediately raised an eyebrow at him.

“You could do something useful, instead of just watching.” Laura chided, crouching down to open a new can of paint. As she stirred it with a wooden stick, she added. “Though considering your loft’s lack of style, I’m not sure I want you touching my place.”

Derek shrugged, grinning widely at Laura. He had missed her acerbic personality. “I don’t think I should be painting, but I can put together furniture, if you want.”

Laura nodded as she checked the color of the paint - a light, airy blue - and said. “If you don’t mind, start with the bookshelves. And keep them away from the walls!”

“Obviously.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Where’s the blue for?”

“Downstairs bathroom.” Laura answered. “Tile’s white, so I figured the blue would look good above it. I went light to make it seem more open. Airy. _Bigger.”_

Derek laughed as he ripped open a box holding an unassembled bookshelf. “You mean unlike that first place in New York?”

“Oh, god...” Laura groaned, laughing loudly. “That whole apartment was like, the size of a closet. And yeah, no...the lack of windows and the mud-colored walls did _not_ make it seem any bigger. I was just so desperate to stay in one place by then that I’m pretty sure I would have agreed to stay in someone’s _actual_ closet. At least for a few weeks while I tried to find us the perfect place.”

“So the second place...” Derek said dryly. “That was perfect?”

“No, the second place was the one with no heat.” Laura said, thinking back to it. “If we’d been human, it would have been unlivable. But it _was_ bigger.”

“I forgot it had no heat.” Derek mused. “I just remember that the toilet and shower were in the _kitchen._ And if you flushed the toilet while someone was doing dishes-”

“Then the sink sprayed _everywhere, _oh my god.” Laura snorted. “I remember you ruined my brand-new silk shirt by doing that when I was on my way to an interview.”

A soft sound drew Derek’s attention - and Laura’s - and they both turned to see Cora in the doorway to the apartment, Stiles right behind her. Laura bit her lip, looking guilty. “Sorry, Cora. Didn’t know you were here. We can talk about something else.”

“No!” Cora blurted out, stepping into the apartment quickly. “No, please. I...I want to know about your time in New York. I missed _so_ much and it’s not the same as having been there but it’s better than nothing.”

“Of course.” Derek agreed; Laura was nodding as well. “Whatever you want to know, we’ll tell you.” He paused, then asked. “Did you pick an apartment?”

Laura had chosen one on the same floor as Derek’s, though it was arguably nicer. And not just because it didn’t have any holes in any of the walls. It was three bedrooms, one of which she’d told Derek would be an office. One and a half bathrooms. A decent kitchen, and an open floor plan that had only a breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the dining room, which then melted into the living room. Like Derek’s loft, it had floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall. It was spacious, and Laura had fallen in love with it right away. Peter had opted for an apartment on the floor above Derek’s, which had surprised exactly no one.

Cora was shifting anxiously and Stiles came up next to her, touching her arm lightly. She looked at him, visibly panicked, and he said. “Do you want me to ask?”

Cora nodded, then shook her head. “No. No, I can do it.” She took a steadying breath, then looked at Laura and asked. “Can I stay with you? Here, I mean. Not...not _forever,_ or anything, but...at first? For now? I...being here is hard and I think...I think being closer to my alpha will help.”

Laura grinned. “Yes. Absolutely.” She crossed the room, pulling Cora into a hug. “You can paint your room any color you like, and we’ll go tomorrow and pick out some stuff for you. Furniture and clothes and whatever you need, okay?”

“Okay.” Cora drew back. “What are we doing now?”

“Well, I’m painting and Derek’s building bookshelves.” Laura gestured to the space around them. “You can help any way you want.”

Cora nodded. “I’m good at painting. Give me a color and a room, and we’re golden.”

Derek turned to watch Stiles as Laura got Cora set up with painting supplies. The younger man was studying the red wall. “Pretty color.” He said at last, before flicking his fingers at it. “There. All dry.”

Laura turned, then suspiciously reached out and touched the wall, first with a single fingertip and then with her whole hand. “Well, then.” She laughed. “You’re handy, Stiles. I’ll give you that much.”

“Figured it was better than risking someone touching the paint during the meeting.” Stiles admitted. “And even with minimal furniture, your place is nice.”

“By which he means, _nicer than Derek’s.”_ Cora said dryly.

Derek shrugged when Stiles blushed, confirming her words. “Hey, if he wants to redecorate, he’s more than welcome to.”

Stiles grinned and moved to kneel behind Derek, draping himself over Derek’s back. He wound his arms around Derek’s waist, hooked his chin over Derek’s shoulder, and murmured in his ear. “Beanbag chairs. I want some.”

Derek laughed. “Whatever you want, love.”

Cora rolled her eyes and pretended to gag. Laura awww’d and made a teasing kissy face at them. Stiles huffed and said. “Alright, you two. Go paint rooms and I’ll dry them as you finish. In the meantime, I’ll help Derek put together some of this furniture for the next two hours. Then I’m going to steal your kitchen for the remaining two hours before the meeting so we have snacks, because if I’m feeding two werewolf packs I’m going to need both yours _and_ Derek’s ovens. Sound good?”

“Bossy little thing, isn’t he?” Cora yelped when Stiles zapped her with a light jolt of magic, then laughed, snarking. “Magical abuse!”

“Quit whining and get to work.” Stiles wiggled his fingers threateningly at her. “Or else.”

“Slave driver.” Derek teased, turning his head to catch Stiles’ mouth for a quick kiss. “Come on. Let’s see how much we can assemble today.”

As his sisters carried paint - Laura to the bathroom, and Cora to the kitchen - Derek went back to working on a bookshelf. Stiles started putting together the first of three identical chairs with odd _‘S’_-shaped seats that had black cushioned covers and funky wooden pieces that supported the seats and formed armrests. Derek was 99% sure that everything Laura had bought furniture-wise had come from IKEA. Their apartments in New York had been the same, with the occasional piece from a flea market or second-hand shop. It brought back memories of building things with Laura.

Some of those memories - the early ones - were grim and somber and raw with the pain of having lost most of their family. But the later ones were happier. After they’d finally begun to heal. After they’d learned how to laugh again. When everything wasn’t quite so fresh and new and painful. Those memories were warm; full of love and happiness. Derek had missed those things sorely after Laura’s death.

And now...now he had more family than he’d dreamed possible. _Both_ of his sisters, alive and well. Peter and Malia. And, amazingly, Stiles and Noah. Maybe it wasn’t what he’d pictured when he was younger, but dreams changed. He loved them all, more than he could put into words, and they were _his._ That was all that mattered.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. I know this is a little late, but my godmother passed this week and her funeral was Friday, so I was a bit out-of-sorts. So posting a new chapter just...wasn't really on my mind.
> 
> Anyway, here's the new chapter. We get some answers in this one, Stiles makes sure everybody understands their place, and that's about it.
> 
> Next chapter: smut!
> 
> As ever, comments thrill me. And right about now, I could really use a little extra love, so pretty please leave me some and let me know what you thought of the chapter.
> 
> ~ Sly

Stiles laughed as Derek pulled him onto his lap. The werewolf was sitting with his back against a wall, on a cushion he’d brought over from his couch. “So we’re sitting on the floor?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at Derek. “Not very dignified.”

“You’re the least dignified person I know.” Derek pointed out. When Stiles pouted, he added. “I don’t think the IKEA chairs will hold both of us.”

Stiles turned his head, studying one of the chairs in question as Laura sat in it. Then, he conceded the point. “Fair enough.”

Someone knocked and Stiles sighed, because this was going to be a _long_ evening. “Okay, I’m not moving, so somebody else needs to go let the masses in. Someone _not_ Derek, as that would also require me to move.”

Cora and Laura chirped _not it_ in near-perfect unison, and Peter - who had arrived about twenty minutes earlier - huffed but obligingly got up and crossed to the door. He opened it and smiled, greeting the new arrival softly. “Hello, Malia.”

“Hey, Peter.” Malia stepped in, waving at everyone. “Hey, guys.” She made a beeline for the breakfast bar, settling onto a stool Derek had assembled and biting into a brownie with a pleased noise. “God, I love when Stiles bakes.”

“Everyone loves when I bake.” Stiles said pointedly, rolling his eyes. “Which is why I did it today. Mouths that are occupied eating yummy baked treats are mouths that can’t interrupt me as I explain shit.”

Laura laughed. “I do so love a devious mind.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Which reminds me...when do I get to officially claim you as Emissary?”

That gave Stiles a moment’s pause. “I sort of assumed you’d want to wait until I had more training. Not sure how good of an Emissary I’ll make right this second.”

“Fuck that.” Laura retorted sharply, her eyes bleeding red. “You brought me back. You brought Alluria back. Nothing a mere Druid can teach you is comparable. Screw things like ceremony and tradition and formal training. You’re a _Mage._ The things you can accomplish through sheer force of will alone wildly outstrip what any Druid can do with every spell, potion, and artifact at their disposal. So fuck it. If you’re on board, I’ll make you my Emissary right now. I’d like to be able to feel you through a pack bond.”

There was a knock on the door and Stiles blew out a slow breath. “Let’s put a pin in that for now, and revisit it after we get through the sharing portion of the evening. Malia, can you get the door?” As she went to do so, he muttered under his breath. “I really hope someone with _normal_ hearing is on the other side of that door.”

When Derek looked at him oddly, he shrugged. “I plan on telling everyone everything, but I’d like a chance to do it my way rather than being ambushed about all of it at the same time, you know?”

Derek kissed him and Stiles melted into it as Malia greeted whoever was at the door. Stiles honestly didn’t even care who it was. Or he didn’t until a familiar throat was cleared. He jerked back, blushing, to see his dad and Parrish, both in uniform. Jordan wiggled his eyebrows - Stiles wasn’t sure if it was at him or at Derek - while his dad simply smirked. Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Because yeah, he was an adult and all, but that didn’t make it less awkward being caught kissing a man who called his dad _boss._

“Hey, Noah.” Derek greeted, calmly resting his chin on Stiles’ shoulder. “Jordan. You two still on shift?”

“We just got off.” Stiles watched as his dad sat in the seat Laura had been in. As agreed, she had slipped into the hallway leading to the bathroom when those currently not in the know started arriving. “Stiles, I can smell your brownies. Bring me one.”

Stiles scoffed, embarrassment fading beneath concerned annoyance in an instant. “You wish. I also baked some healthy cookies - egg whites, applesauce instead of oil, the works - and you can have a couple of those. The brownies are off limits.”

Malia hummed. “I’ve tasted literally everything over here and it’s all awesome, so...”

“The peanut butter are the healthy cookies.” Derek offered from behind him. “And you can put a _small_ brownie on the plate too, Malia.”

Stiles didn’t protest because Derek helped him look after his dad’s diet and if he was allowing the brownie, it meant his dad had been eating good at the station. When he didn’t argue, Malia made up a small plate with three cookies and a half of a brownie square. Stiles had to stifle a laugh when the other half of it disappeared into Malia’s mouth. She handed the plate to Noah, along with a glass of milk.

“Thank you, sweetie.” He bit into one of the cookies first and made a pleased sound. “Okay, Stiles. I can get behind these cookies as an alternative to store-bought ones.”

“Good. I’ll work on a few different types so you can have a variety.” Stiles grinned smugly at his dad. “If you didn’t fight me so hard on the healthy food, I could spend less time arguing and more time working on ways to make it all taste good. Just something for you to think about.”

Jordan had joined Malia at the breakfast bar, and he drew Stiles’ attention with his next words. “I know you’ve talked about joining the department, but maybe you should think about opening a bakery instead. You could even offer a line of _healthy treats.”_

I would absolutely eat there every day.” Malia offered. “You should do it. It’d be awesome.” Peter nodded his agreement to his daughter’s words, which surprised Stiles a little; Peter wasn’t prone to giving compliments, after all.

Before Stiles could say anything, there was another knock on the door. This time, Cora got up. “Pretty sure this is everyone else.” She said, directing the comment over her shoulder at Stiles. “You know how Scott is; the McCall pack usually arrives en masse.”

Sure enough, when she opened the door, Scott was the first one through. He was followed by Kira, Lydia, and Isaac. Stiles couldn't help the sharp pang of regret he always felt at seeing them. Excluding Kira, they were the depleted remnants of what should have been a revived Hale pack, and their presence seemed to serve as a devastating reminder of those who were lost. Jackson, across the world. Erica and Boyd, lost to the Alpha pack. And even Allison, lost to the Nogitsune. Stiles sighed and burrowed in closer to Derek, because the losses were still fresh; still keenly felt. He honestly didn’t think any amount of time would erase that pain.

There was a reason he hadn't come home much while he’d been away at college for the last year. He’d spent his senior year of high school trying not to let anyone see how much it hurt just to _look_ at his friends. Staying away had seemed like his only recourse, because he was just so tired of it hurting. Stiles wondered when he’d become the sort of person who hid from his problems, rather than facing them. Then he thought about Alluria, and Laura, and cut himself a little slack. He’d taken a break from Beacon Hills, but he’d come back.

Because Beacon Hills was _home._ He would do whatever he could to repair the damage done to it. And to the Hale pack. Laura had been the first; she wasn’t necessarily going to be the _last._ Alluria had other plans and, honestly, so did Stiles. But, like all good things, they would come in time. Right now, he had to get through this meeting.

Before Scott and the others could do more than greet everyone else, there was another knock. Lydia opened the door to admit Melissa and Chris. Stiles hadn't necessarily been expecting either of them, but he wasn’t averse to it, either. Having Chris present would actually save him from having to set up a separate meeting between the hunter and Laura. And they both had as much right to be there as his dad did, anyway. Cora surrendered her seat to Melissa, while Peter leered at Chris and patted his lap.

Chris snorted. “You’re crazier than I thought if you think I’d be willing to sit on your lap.” He headed to the breakfast bar and claimed the stool next to Parrish. “Besides, _these_ are clearly the best seats. This is where all the snacks are.”

Kira, Lydia, Isaac, and Scott all arranged themselves on the floor. Cora moved to sit next to her cousin on the final stool. Once everyone seemed to have settled into place, Stiles asked. “Are we expecting anyone else?”

“Pretty sure this is everyone who’s in the know, Stiles.” Lydia rolled her eyes, which Stiles took a little umbrage with mostly because _he _hadn't been expecting two of the people present in the first place so it was a reasonable question in his mind. “You know Noshiko leaves things to Kira these days. So unless one of you invited Satomi...”

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “She’ll get a personal visit from the new alpha soon, but we don’t need her to know everything. Honestly, some of _you_ are only being told everything as a courtesy being extended to _me._ So we’re all going to play nice.”

Scott and Lydia both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, but Stiles cut them off because the hell if he was getting tag-teamed at his own meeting. “Scott, as alpha of your pack you can choose to speak on their behalf or you can assign a spokesperson. But I’ll hear _one_ member of your pack...or I’ll hear _none_ of you. Dad, same rules. You can speak on behalf of the sheriff’s department or let one of your deputies speak, but you get one voice.”

“What about me?”

Stiles smiled apologetically at Melissa. “You know I love you, but you’re in Scott’s pack. If you’re not his spokesperson, you don’t get to talk, either. Chris, you’re here as the voice of the Argent family, so you can speak.”

Noah sighed, but waved his hand at Stiles. “We both know I won’t know what to ask and I’m happy to save any lecturing for when we’re alone. Derek can speak for the department.”

“Works for me.” Derek rumbled against his ear, once again hooking his chin over Stiles’ shoulder. “So that’s me for local law enforcement, Chris for the hunters, and our alpha for the Hale pack. Scott, who do you choose?”

“Myself.” Scott snapped, bristling. “But if you think I can keep Lydia silent, then you’ve been gone too long, Stiles.”

“She’ll keep quiet if she wants to stay.” Stiles said, soft but firm. “And if I have to temporarily strip a banshee of her voice to ensure she’s silent between the moment she _tries_ to speak and when she’s removed from this meeting, then be assured that I both _can_ and _will_ do just that. Don’t test me.”

Lydia folded her arms over her chest, glossy lips pursed with anger, but she was silent and that was all Stiles cared about. “Perfect.” He smiled tightly at everyone. “First things first, then. Everyone, say hello to the Hale alpha and rightful ruler of the Beacon Hills territory. Laura, you can join us.”

Stiles watched as Laura stepped into the room. Peter immediately stood, giving his alpha the seat. He then stood behind it and slightly to her right. “Hello, everyone.” Laura inclined her head, letting her eyes bleed red as she scanned the room. “I’m Laura Hale, alpha of the Hale pack and the territory that includes both Beacon Hills and the Preserve. Normally I’d head a meeting like this myself, but I’m allowing Stiles to run the show today. At least for now.”

“You were most definitely dead.”

“Yes, Mr. Argent. I _was._ Now I’m not.” Laura smiled at the hunter and it showed a few too many teeth, but Stiles understood that. “And as I am the rightful alpha, I’m reestablishing my claim here. Is that a problem for you?”

Chris shrugged but said nothing else. Scott, on the other hand, turned on Stiles with a red-eyed glare, clearly furious. “You brought her back from the dead? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you possessed, or just crazy?”

Stiles snorted, patting Derek’s arm soothingly when the beta growled menacingly behind him. “Hush, Derek. Scott...if you won’t play nice, I’ll delegate your mom as spokesperson and silence you. You’re here as a gesture of goodwill, because you’ve helped hold the territory during Laura’s absence, but if you won’t listen then it’ll be the last goodwill you receive.”

Scott ground his teeth, but nodded tersely.

Stiles sighed, knowing that was all he was going to get right now. “Alright. So. Everyone here knows I spent some time possessed by a Nogitsune.”

Laura’s body jerked and Stiles amended. “Okay, so _now_ everybody knows. Sorry, Laura, I forgot I hadn't told you that.”

“Oh, no worries.” Laura waved her hand dismissively, sounding amused. “Please, continue. I’m eager for the answers you promised me.”

“Right. So. The Nogitsune left a thousand years worth of information behind. Combined with my bond with Alluria - the Nemeton - I was able to piece together a ritual to bring Laura back and restore her alpha spark.” Stiles had already decided that not everyone needed to know all of the finer details of the thing. “I also used the ritual - along with some other spells - to help Alluria heal. She’s growing nicely, though it’ll be years yet before she’s even close to her former size.”

Scott was still glaring. “You really think bringing that tree back to life is a good idea? Or using information the Nogitsune had?”

Stiles shrugged. “Void’s intel has saved the Emeryville pack’s collective asses, so I’m not planning to ignore it just because it came from him. And Alluria is _good._ She’s a part of the land, and she should never have been cut down. I won’t debate her right to live, Scott. Not with you, or with anyone else.

“Her injuries damaged the Hale pack’s hold on the land.” Stiles continued, raising his voice a little when it looked like Scott was going to try to interrupt. “And, as a result, there was instability and fighting and _death._ The only way that Beacon Hills will _ever_ know peace is if she’s restored and once again protected by the Hale pack. Hence, Laura.”

Chris spoke next, voice hoarse. “Is Laura Hale the only person you’re able to bring back, or can you do it again?”

Stiles blew out a careful breath, because he knew what Chris was _really_ asking. And he’d known it would be asked, by at least one person. Given all they’d lost..._of course_ it would be asked. So, he answered the best he could. “I have the ability to perform the ritual again, provided the necessary elements can be assembled. But bringing a person back to life is...complicated.”

He hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words before finally saying. “Some deaths are a part of the natural order and undoing them would cause even more damage to the balance. As a Mage, my job is to repair the balance that was upset by Alluria’s destruction, _not_ upset it further by doing whatever I want.”

He rubbed tiredly at his eyes and added. “But some deaths _have_ to be undone to correct things. To restore balance and the natural order. Peter’s was one, though he did that on his own. Laura’s was another. I’m still working out who else I need to bring back. I don’t have that answer yet.”

“You never said you were bringing anyone else back.” Derek said, sounding shocked. “I just assumed it was a one-time deal with Laura.”

“I didn’t say anything because I don’t _know_ anything. Not yet. Not for sure.” Stiles was getting really sick of repeating himself, but he did his best to bite down on his temper. “Why get anyone’s hopes up when I can’t make any promises? It’s not a pick-and-choose deal here. I don’t get final say. I have to go by what’s going to help the balance, and that’s not necessarily going to be fair.”

Everyone was silent for a long, extended moment. Then, Chris asked. “Will you let me know? Even if the answer’s no, I’d like to know. One way or the other.”

Stiles nodded. “Of course. She _was_ my friend, you know. And if I _can,_ then I will. But I’m still trying to figure out all of the rules and guidelines for this.” He cleared his throat, then added. “That goes for everyone. When I know who I _can_ bring back, I’ll let you know.”

Laura leaned forward, drawing everyone’s attention. “Well, now that everyone has a better idea of what Stiles has done - and what he’s going to continue to do - I think we can safely move on to the part of the evening where _I_ explain a few things.”

Scott scoffed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why you get to waltz back in and just take over when you left for six years. _We’re_ the ones who’ve been cleaning up the messes left by the Hale pack.”

Laura’s eyes flashed red and her fingers tipped with claws, but Stiles spoke before she could. A fight wouldn’t help anything right now. “Scott, don’t. It was Hale ancestors who planted the Nemeton, and she’ll only be loyal to a Hale alpha. The land follows Alluria’s lead. Talia failed in her sacred duty, but Peter didn’t. And now Laura, Derek, Cora, and Malia have all agreed to honor the promise their family made to keep Alluria safe, like Peter has. You’ve tried to stabilize the territory, but you _can’t._ You’ll never be able to, because it will _always_ fight against a non-Hale alpha which means it’ll always be vulnerable to outside interference.”

“Stiles is helping Alluria stabilize, which will be good for everyone.” Laura added, relaxing back into her chair with a smile. “His connection to Alluria makes him the natural choice for Hale Emissary, so you’re perfectly welcome to keep Deaton as yours, Scott. But I _am_ extending a formal invitation to those who were bitten by either Peter or Derek. They were bitten by Hales, so they’re welcome in my pack.”

“So now you’re trying to take my betas, too?” Scott stood and bared his fangs at Laura, eyes bright red and claws extended. “You’re just asking for a fight, aren’t you?”

“And that’s enough of _that,_ thank you.” Stiles snapped, flicking his fingers and sending Scott back against the wall, then pinning him there. “You never wanted to be an alpha. Hell, you didn’t even want to be a _wolf._ You wanted a damned _cure,_ so badly you were willing to _kill_ for it, remember? So you’re going to learn to live peacefully under Laura’s rule, and you’ll cede any Hale-bitten betas who want to be in her pack to her, or I swear to god I’ll rip that spark right out of your _True Alpha_ ass and give it to a wolf who actually deserves the damned thing.”

There was silence, then Derek asked curiously. “Can...can you do that?”

Stiles nodded tersely. “Yeah, I can. But more importantly, I _will_ if that’s what it takes to keep the peace around here. I didn’t do all of this for Scott to posture and snarl and try to take something he has no right to. I did it for _peace. _And mark my words, Beacon Hills _will_ have peace, even if I have to force it down everyone’s throats. Am I being clear enough?”

“I certainly think so.” Laura smiled fondly at him. “Your devotion to Beacon Hills is an admirable trait. It’s part of what will make you such an invaluable member of our pack.”

“Thank you.” Stiles let Scott go at last, though his next words were still directed at Laura. “Please, continue.”

Laura inclined her head to him, then said. “Satomi Ito has kept a pack in Hale territory for a long time, without issue. I see no reason why Scott can’t do the same, provided terms can be worked out. In exchange for being here, the Ito pack will lend aid, should the Hale pack require it. I’d expect no less from the McCall pack.”

She turned her head and added. “You’re welcome in our territory as well, Jordan. I would offer you a place in my pack, but I don’t know if hellhounds can be in a pack. Either way, Derek considers you a friend, so _I_ consider you an ally.”

Jordan nodded. “Assuming I can speak, since you addressed me directly...” Laura gestured for him to continue, so he did. “Is there a way to know if I can be in a pack?”

Laura grinned. “Only one. We give it a shot and see if a pack bond snaps into place.” She made a _‘come here’_ motion at the deputy and Stiles watched him cross to her as she admitted quietly. “I’m surprised Scott’s never tried this, honestly. I was curious about it the moment Stiles told me about you. The Hales have never had anyone but wolves in our pack before.”

Jordan stopped in front of Laura’s chair and she reached up, curling her hand around the back of his neck and drawing him down until their foreheads touched. Her eyes flashed red, then the hellhound’s burned orange. Laura sucked in a stunned breath - as did everyone else - when Jordan suddenly had flames licking across his skin. Laura stared at where they danced against her own skin, but she didn’t seem to be in pain and her skin looked fine; undamaged. After a moment, the flames went out and both Laura and Jordan drew back.

“Well...” Laura laughed a little breathlessly. “That was different. But can you feel the rest of us now?”

Jordan considered it for a moment before replying. “I can. I’m guessing that means it worked?” Laura nodded and Jordan grinned. “Great. I think that’s why my fire didn’t burn you. The hellhound would never hurt his alpha.”

“What did you just do?”

Laura turned to Isaac, frowning. “I claimed him as a beta, obviously. The same way Scott did with you, when you joined his pack.”

Stiles noticed the uneasy look on Isaac’s face and sat up straighter, suddenly alarmed. “Isaac, Scott _did_ claim you, didn’t he? You haven’t been an omega all this time, have you?” He turned on the True Alpha with a sharp look. “Scott, can you feel your betas with a pack bond?”

“I don’t know.” Scott mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “I’ve never really understood the whole pack bond thing.”

“Derek never did that to me, either.” Isaac said softly. “But no, I can’t feel Scott the way I could feel him. I just figured it was because Scott wasn’t the one who bit me.”

“Oh, damn.” Laura rubbed at her temples as though a headache was building. “Okay, so. Apparently it’s time for a little _Werewolf 101._ There are four ways a pack bond can be created between an alpha and a pack member. The first - and easiest - way is to be born into a pack. The second is to be bitten by an alpha, though that bond can be fought against and needs reinforcing to be complete, particularly if the person who was bitten was unwilling.”

Laura looked at Scott, adding gently. “Yours with Peter was never properly reinforced, so you never felt that bond fully. And you never joined Derek when he was an alpha. The fact that you never experienced a proper pack bond while a beta is probably why you struggle with understanding them now that you’re an alpha.”

Scott said nothing, so Laura shrugged and continued. “The third way to add a member to a pack is what I used with each of my betas, except Malia. Her bond grew organically because she helped Stiles bring me back, so that one is closer to what happens when someone is born into a pack. When a new alpha inherits a pack - like I did when my mother died - they have to forge a bond with each member. The pack, in turn, accepts their new alpha. That’s what I’ve done since coming back. It’s what Scott _should_ have done to add members to his pack.”

“And the fourth way?” Lydia asked, speaking at last now that is seemed everyone was allowed to.

“If a pack member takes a mate.” Laura explained. “There’s a few different rituals for that and, when one is completed, it creates a bond between the alpha and the new mate. If both members of a mating have alphas, then a pre-bond with the alpha who’s pack they plan to be in is necessary to guide the mate bond in the chosen direction.”

There was a moment of silence, then Scott muttered. “I can feel Kira. But she’s the only one.”

Laura hummed consideringly. “You two are..._intimate._ Odds are, you flashed your eyes at her in an instinctive show of dominance, and hers flashed back in willing submission. Alphas have to be careful when they’re having sex with other supernaturals, because we can form a bond unintentionally. Deaton should have explained all of this to you. Isn’t he acting as your Emissary? Though obviously he hasn’t been _claimed...”_

Stiles made a sound that would have been called a growl by most people, though in a room full of supernaturals it was less of one. “Deaton doesn’t deserve to be in Beacon Hills, after what he and the others did to Alluria. But it honestly doesn’t surprise me that he never told Scott what to do. He’s never been helpful.”

“If you knew, why didn’t _you_ tell me?” Scott asked, glaring at him. “You knew I’d never claimed you.”

“Because you _can’t_ claim me.” Stiles snapped right back. “My bond to Alluria means I can only be claimed by a Hale alpha. And, like Laura, I assumed Deaton had done his damned job and told you how to do yours!”

“Okay, okay.” Laura held up her hands, voice soothing. “Obviously, we have a complicated situation here, but it’s solvable. If Scott wants to claim his betas now - and if they want to be in his pack - then that can be done. Or they can join mine. And, if Scott truly has no wish to be an alpha, Stiles can remedy that and then Scott can join me as well.” She smiled at the younger alpha. “You _were_ bitten by a Hale, after all.”

Stiles scanned a sea of uneasy, uncertain, and mutinous faces, then sighed. “I think we need to shelve this conversation until everyone’s had a chance to think about things and calm down. In the meantime, I baked. So eat some snacks. Hang out if you want, or you’re all free to go. This meeting is officially adjourned.”

For a moment, no one moved or spoke. Then, Stiles got to his feet and waved. “And on that note, I’m going across the hall to my boyfriend’s apartment now. Dad, I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you. Laura, we’ll talk about the Emissary thing tomorrow, too. Derek, let’s go.”

Leaving the werewolf to grab the cushion they’d been sitting on, Stiles headed for the door, completely ignoring the chorus of farewells. He was done for the day. Done being stared at, and questioned, and judged. Done dealing with Scott’s willful ignorance as an alpha. Done facing everyone’s expectations and demands. Because Stiles knew what was going to happen now that everyone knew about him bringing back Laura.

They’d all lost loved ones, after all; even Stiles himself. Friends, or family, or pack.

And Stiles hated that some of the people he cared about would get someone back, while others...others wouldn’t. He hated the inherent unfairness of it all. And, for the moment, he was tired of the weight he was going to have to carry for the rest of his life. Mages had magic like nothing and no one else. A Mage tied to a Nemeton had all but unlimited power. It was a gift, and Stiles would never doubt or deny that, but it was also a burden. That was _just_ as undeniable.

He let himself into Derek’s loft, leaving the door open and kicking his shoes off just inside it. He draped his flannel overshirt on the back of the couch as he passed, right above the missing cushion. He climbed the spiral staircase, his t-shirt slung over the railing about halfway up. His jeans - belt still threaded through the loops - were left at the top of the steps, just far enough to one side to prevent Derek from tripping on them.

As he shimmied out of his boxers and tugged his socks off - letting them fall to the floor beside Derek’s bed - he heard the door close downstairs. With a steadying breath, Stiles laid down. The half-moon was spilling light across the sheets and Stiles used his magic so he could see the shadowed doorway better. He listened to the sound of Derek climbing the stairs and reminded himself to keep breathing. He wanted this, and he knew Derek did, too. There was nothing stopping them now.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the smut chapter! Heed the new tags, please, my darlings. ^_^ They're there for a reason.
> 
> So, a huge thanks to simplyn2deep for reminding me (again) to post. I had a tooth extracted yesterday and my face hurts like you wouldn't believe, so there's a good chance I'd have forgotten if not for her. Thank you, darling, for helping me keep things on schedule, and I hope you enjoy the smut. ❤️
> 
> Also, with the holidays being so closely followed by my sproglet's birthday (he's a New Year's Eve baby) this is an extremely busy and hectic and stressful time of year for me. That being said, you guys leaving me love in the comments has been such a bright spot these last few weeks and I wanted to thank you so very much for all of the support and love, because it really does mean the world to me. All of my readers are very precious to me and I do hope you all enjoy this smutty, loving interlude with Stiles and Derek before we return to your regularly scheduled plot next week. ❤️
> 
> ~ Sly

Derek stood, grabbing his couch cushion as everyone called goodbyes to Stiles. The younger man ignored them all, and was out the door in seconds. “Sorry, Noah. I’ll keep an eye on him tonight, but I’m sure he’s just tired. This has been a lot.”

“It’s fine, son.” Noah waved Derek towards the door. “Let me know if you can’t make your shift tomorrow and I’ll figure something out. Good luck with Stiles. He can be a handful when he’s in a mood.”

“He can be a handful when he’s _not_ in a mood.” Derek pointed out, which made Noah laugh. Derek gave Laura’s cheek a kiss, then Cora’s, then - determined to reinforce his new pack bonds - Derek kissed Malia’s cheek as well. He hugged Peter, rubbed his palm over the back of Jordan’s neck, and addressed the room at large. “If anyone hounds Stiles about bringing people back, I’ll be supremely pissed off. He knows who everyone’s lost. If he can fix any of it, he will. So don’t you _dare_ ask.”

“Scott...” Derek turned to the True Alpha and said softly. “You’ve always wanted a cure. And it’s not quite that, but Stiles is offering to let you be a few steps closer to normal, at least. I know you’re pissed about things right now, but...consider it. You were a hell of a lot less stressed as a beta. You’d be even less stressed with a real alpha and a large pack.”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Scott said lowly. He gave Derek a small, tired smile, though. “I’ll think about it. I promise.”

“That’s all any of us are asking.” Derek waved to the assembled group. “I’m just...going to follow Stiles now.”

Goodbyes followed him into the hallway. He closed his door behind himself, then went to drop the cushion back on the couch. Derek touched Stiles’ overshirt, then followed the sound of Stiles’ racing heart and started up the spiraling metal stairs. Halfway up, his fingers found the fabric of Stiles’ t-shirt. As he continued climbing, Derek tugged his own t-shirt off, letting it rest over the railing as well. At the top of the stairs, he spotted Stiles’ jeans and felt his mouth go dry.

There wasn’t a lot of room for misinterpreting a trail of clothes leading into a bedroom, at least in Derek’s experience.

With shaking hands, he undid his own jeans as he stepped through the doorway and into his room. The sight that greeted him had his breath catching in his throat. Stiles was reclining against the pillows, moonlight and shadows dancing over pale, mole-dotted skin and long limbs. His tawny eyes were glowing, golden in his shadowed face. He was entirely bare, and Derek was having trouble deciding what to look at first. The slim, muscular legs. The flat, lightly defined stomach. Those burning eyes set in that impish, beautiful face. Or - new to Derek - the cock resting, hard and swollen, against Stiles’ belly. It was long and slim, just like Stiles, and the head was flushed the same cherry-red that Stiles’ lips were when kiss-swollen. Derek’s mouth went from dry to flooded with saliva in an instant.

Derek swallowed hard even as he approached the bed. Stiles was silent, just watching him. Derek stopped next to the bed, locking eyes with Stiles as he shoved down his jeans, freeing his own erection. Stiles’ eyes dropped, pink tongue darting out to moisten his lips, then he brought his gaze back up. It was weirdly gratifying. Both the fact that Stiles had taken a moment to look at _all_ of him, and that he’d chosen to look Derek in the eyes, rather than continuing to ogle him.

“So...” Derek said as he crawled onto the mattress beside him. “What’s the game plan here, Stiles? Because I thought we were taking things slow.”

“Slow.” Stiles murmured, his lips quirking up in amusement. “Slow, like how we’ve said _‘I love you’_ already? Or slow like how both Laura and Dad have made casual comments about me moving in with you, like it’s inevitable and expected? Slow like how you’ve called me your _mate,_ maybe, like we don’t both know just how serious of a commitment that is?”

“Slow like, you said you weren’t ready for this.” Derek reached out and caught one of Stiles’ hands with his own, tangling their fingers together. “So if that’s changed, then okay. But I have to wonder why, and wondering means I have to _ask.”_

Stiles nodded, his smile turning rueful. “I really should have expected that. Kind of annoyed I didn’t, actually. And it’s a more than fair question.” He squeezed Derek’s hand. “I couldn't have sex with you while I was lying to you. I’m not lying to you anymore, obviously. You know about Alluria and Laura. You know I’ll be trying to bring back others. There’s nothing in the way, now.”

Derek nodded. “I keep thinking I should be angry. About the lying, and the secrets. About the risks you took. And we still need to talk about Deucalion, because I haven’t forgotten that you smelled like him the night you brought Laura back.”

“Sounds like there’s a _but_ in there, somewhere.”

_“But...”_ Derek continued, lips twitching up and words softening with fondness. “I understand why you did it. And if you’d done anything else - anything _less_ \- then you wouldn’t be _you._ And I love _you,_ which makes it hard to be mad.”

Stiles cheeks turned pink. “Good. I’m glad you’re not pissed. And I’ll tell you all about the ritual, and Deucalion, I swear it. But can we have that conversation when we _aren’t_ both naked and hard?”

Derek laughed. “Yeah, okay.” He shifted so he was leaning over Stiles, one hand braced on either side of his slender chest. “Which brings me back to my original question. What’s the game plan? What, exactly, do you want?”

He watched Stiles’ throat bob as the younger man swallowed, his throat clicking dryly. Stiles dropped his eyes for a moment and when he raised them again, they were no longer glowing. “Honestly?”

“Always.” Derek told him. “I’ll always want the truth from you.”

Stiles took a shaky breath, then managed hoarsely. “I want you to make me pack. I want to feel you through a bond. And I know Laura can do it, but I’ll always consider myself your mate first and her Emissary second, so that...it feels wrong. I want to do it this way, instead. I want it to be you.”

Derek couldn't have kept from smiling if he’d tried. “Okay.” He leaned down to press a soft kiss to Stiles’ mouth, murmuring against it. “How do you want to do this?” Stiles made a questioning sound, so he clarified. “Do you want to give or receive?”

When Stiles made a choked, gasping sort of noise, Derek felt himself smirk. Stiles blinked up at him for a minute, then rasped. “My brain absolutely just melted out my ears, and we’re going to revisit the idea of me fucking you at some point, but tonight...tonight, I want you to fuck me.”

“Okay.” Derek caught Stiles’ mouth in a kiss, licking past his teeth in an instant. Stiles nipped at his tongue and he drew back with a growl, eyes flashing blue. “What kind of mating, Stiles? I need to know before we’re past the point of rational discussion.”

“I think I passed that point around the time you offered me your ass.” Stiles said dryly, and Derek rested his forehead on Stiles’ shoulder as he laughed. “What are my choices here, big guy? I’m not exactly an expert on the subject.”

“There’s a lot of finer points to the differences. How the pack bond between us will function, depending on the magic we use to tie us together, mostly.” Derek shifted so he was laying side-by-side with Stiles, facing him, his head propped up by his hand and elbow braced on the bed. “But there’s a basic mate-bond which is normally used when one half of the couple - or even the whole couple - is non-magical. Then there’s the next level up, which requires magic from both parties and is typically used when both halves of the couple are werewolves or, barring that, at least both _shifters.”_

Stiles didn’t say anything - only watched Derek with an expectant, curious look on his face - so Derek continued. “The highest level is used when both halves of a couple have magic, but one is a werewolf and the other is...something else. Though it _can_ be used when both parties are shifters, of course. And sometimes a couple chooses to use a lesser bond for whatever reason, even when they have the option of using a higher level one. It’s really about how the bonds _work.”_

Stiles nodded slowly, then asked. “What does the lowest level bond do?”

“It’s similar to a regular pack bond.” Derek fought against his disappointment that Stiles had asked about _that_ bond and did his best to answer honestly. “Feelings and such passed back-and-forth. Being able to feel each other. It’s a little stronger than a normal pack bond. Closer to how you described your bond with Alluria, which is a step or two above a pack bond. A Marriage Bond is also the only type of bond a non-magical person can feel.”

“And the mid-level?”

Derek’s heart sped up a little, but he told himself to calm down because it was obvious now that Stiles was doing his typical research; gathering all necessary information before making a decision. “A Mate Bond allows for a closer bond; a stronger connection. Memory-sharing. The ability to track each other through the bond.”

“And the highest?”

Derek forced himself to rein in his feelings and did his best to give an accurate, unbiased accounting of the final type of bond. “A Life-Mate Bond is...intense. The level of it depends on the parties involved, but it can push the emotional and mental link into near-telepathy at times. Our lives would be tied to each other, so that we’d share a lifespan. Normally, a shifter’s lifespan is naturally longer than, say, a Druid or a banshee or a witch. But, conversely, a shifter’s lifespan is shorter than a kitsune’s, or a dragon. The shorter lifespan is extended by a Life-Mate Bond, to match the longer one. There’s also a chance for power-sharing, though that doesn’t always happen.”

Stiles hummed thoughtfully. “So...with a Life-Mate Bond, I’d live a lot longer than I would normally?”

Derek huffed, amused. “You’re a Mage, Stiles. You’ve got a lifespan of several hundred years. Actually, considering you’re bound to Alluria, you might hit a thousand. So it would actually be _my_ life that’s extended, not yours.”

Those wide, tawny eyes blinked several times in surprise. “So if we _don’t_ do a Life-Mate Bond, I’ll have to watch you grow old and die while I’m still young?”

Derek nodded, because it was true. And he understood the horror in Stiles’ eyes, because it’s how he would have felt if their positions were reversed. The very idea of living lifetimes longer than his mate was agonizing. He hadn't been sure how Stiles would feel about it - he wasn’t a wolf, after all - but he’d been hopeful. Now, seeing Stiles’ reaction, Derek wondered how he’d ever doubted him. Stiles was loyal to a fault and fiercely protective, to the point where he would do whatever it took to keep those he loved alive and well.

This wasn’t going to be any different.

“Okay. What’s the ritual for the Life-Mate Bond?” Stiles asked softly. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m growing old without you. You’re _mine,_ Derek Hale. And I’m planning to keep you for the rest of my apparently _very long_ life.”

“We say some words. I’ll talk you through them, so don’t worry about that. Then I bite you.” Derek replied, just as softly. “You’ll bite me back. Our magic will do the rest.”

Stiles nodded his agreement, then shot Derek a coy look from under his lashes and asked huskily. “How do you want me, baby?”

Derek groaned, feeling his eyes flash again as desire flooded through him. “On your hands and knees. Less chance of me killing you by biting the wrong spot if I keep my teeth at the back of your neck, rather than the side.”

He watched as Stiles rolled onto his stomach, then pushed up onto his hands and knees. He gave Derek a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “First off, great vote of confidence there, big guy. Very reassuring. Second off...I’m assuming you have what we need?”

Derek settled himself behind Stiles, nudging the other man’s knees further apart with his own, making room for himself. He ran his palms down the long, elegant line of Stiles’ back, thumbs tracing the ridges of his spine. He stopped at the base, thumbs brushing back and forth over the dimples set there, just above the pert swell of Stiles’ ass. As Derek let his hands drift lower - curving his palms over that soft, supple flesh - he watched in heated delight as Stiles dropped from his hands down to his elbows, arching back into Derek’s touch. It was heady and intoxicating, to _finally_ have Stiles beneath him.

“Yeah.” He growled, leaning down to lick a hot, wet line up Stiles’ spine, from right between those dimples to the nape of his neck, savoring the taste of skin and sweat as it seared itself across his tongue. “Yeah, I’ve got stuff. Do you want me to wear a condom?”

“Ah, fuck...n-no.” Stiles shook his head where it rested on his folded arms. “You can’t give me anything, because you can’t get sick. So no. No condom.”

Derek slid one hand under the pillow that was just above Stiles’ head, pulling out the lube he knew he’d left there. Stiles huffed in amusement and teased. “I figured you were more of the _keep it in the nightstand_ type.”

Derek nipped at the curve of Stiles’ ear and murmured. “Normally, I do. But I didn’t bother putting it away after the last time I used it. I fell asleep, then _someone_ woke me up to tell me they’d resurrected my sister and I forgot about it.”

“Mmmm...” Stiles hummed happily at the quiet _snick_ of the lube’s cap opening. “I’m not even sorry. We should keep lube in convenient spots all around the loft after this.”

Derek slid a single, slick finger inside Stiles and said huskily. “Hmmm...and who says I don’t do that already? You should go on a scavenger hunt later. See if you can find them all.”

Stiles groaned, canting his hips back into Derek’s touch. “F-_fuck!_ Yeah, okay, sound good. Whatever you say.” Derek pumped his finger a few times and Stiles groaned again before panting demandingly. “Not gonna break, Der. I’ve been fucking myself open pretty much every say since I learned what my prostate was at fifteen. I can take it.”

Trusting Stiles to know his own limits - to know what his body could handle - Derek pressed a second finger into the soft clutch of the younger man’s body. Sure enough, Stiles opened for him, hot and slick and welcoming. As Stiles whimpered and moaned, Derek slid a third finger in. Again, Stiles’ body spread eagerly around the intruding digits. Stiles writhed and arched his spine and rocked back into Derek’s fingers with eager enthusiasm as Derek twisted and spread his fingers, stretching Stiles’ rim and making sure the younger man was slick enough.

As he crooked his fingers, pressing against Stiles’ prostate, the younger man mewled. The sound had Derek’s cock throbbing in sympathy, leaking steadily onto the bed. “Ready?” He asked roughly.

Stiles nodded frantically, letting out a keening whine that wasn’t quite a word. That was all the permission Derek needed. He slid his fingers out, hastily coating his erection with more lube. Then he guided the head to rest against Stiles’ slick entrance and pressed slowly inside. Derek groaned as Stiles opened for him, surrounding his cock in slick, snug heat one inch at a time. He sank in slowly, rocking into Stiles’ body by degrees, until he was fully sheathed in the other man. He pressed a damp, sucking kiss to Stiles’ shoulder as he let them both adjust.

“God...god, it’s been too long.” Stiles whined breathlessly. “F-fuck, you’re big. So good, Der. You feel _so_ fucking good, baby.”

At the sound of the pet name, Derek’s hips stuttered, his pulse racing. Stiles moaned and ground his ass back against Derek’s hips. Taking his cue from Stiles’ reactions, Derek started to thrust. He pulled out slowly, then pushed back in hard and fast. Stiles was slim, and wiry, and stronger than he looked; sturdier. Derek knew he could take everything he was being given, and the way Stiles moved and cried out and clawed at the sheets only confirmed it. Derek dug bruising fingertips into one of Stiles’ hips, claws drawing pinpricks of blood. His other hand slid around to Stiles’ belly, fingers curling loosely around his slim, leaking cock.

It throbbed beneath Derek’s touch, hot and silken as he slicked the sticky moisture clinging to the top down the length of it, taking care with his claws. “Yesss...” Stiles hissed, hips moving in a staccato rhythm as he tried to push back onto Derek’s cock and forward into his hand at the same time. “So perfect, baby....just like that...”

Derek growled, the words making him flush with pleasure. He wanted to please Stiles; to earn more of the praise still spilling past those sinful lips. But he could feel how close they both were, so he slowed down instead. Then, ignoring Stiles’ keening protests, he stilled both his hips and his hand, buried deep inside the younger man and still holding his cock. Stiles bucked beneath him, a whine rising in his throat and the air around them crackling with magic as the Mage grew increasingly desperate. Derek didn’t give in to the wordless demands, instead keeping Stiles poised right on the edge with the smallest movements.

“I claim you as my own.” Derek murmured against Stiles’ ear, which had him falling still at last. Stiles’ body shook, his heart racing and his breath coming in great, heaving gulps, but it was clear he was listening to Derek. “I will call you pack from this day forward, because you are my heart. I promise to protect you, and provide for you, and cherish you until my last breath. I tie my life to yours, because I cannot bear the thought of being apart. You are mine, now and always.”

Derek heard Stiles swallow, then whisper. “I claim you as my own. I will call you pack from this day forward, because you are my heart. I promise to protect you, and...and...”

“And provide for you.” Derek prompted.

“And provide for you.” Stiles echoed, picking up the thread of words again. “And cherish you until my last breath.”

There was a pause, then Derek offered. “I tie my life to yours...”

Stiles nodded, then repeated the words. “I tie my life to yours...”

“Because I cannot bear the thought of being apart.”

Stiles shivered, but finished the ritual words, voice soft but firm. “Because I cannot bear the thought of being apart. You are mine, now and always.”

Derek let his fangs drop, eyes burning blue as he lowered his mouth to the nape of Stiles’ neck. He set his teeth carefully against the skin, then bit down, hard and fast. He felt the delicate skin give way beneath his fangs; tasted the coppery tang of Stiles’ blood as it burst across his tongue. Stiles hissed sharply in pain and Derek immediately put his free hand in front of the other man’s face. He couldn't see it, but Derek was positive the Mage’s eyes were glowing that burned gold as Stiles’ teeth bit into his wrist.

Derek felt the skin over his pulse point tear beneath Stiles’ blunt human teeth and finally let go of his neck. He watched the torn skin heal beneath the dark blood staining that pale flesh even as he started fucking into Stiles again. His hand resumed stroking Stiles’ still-hard cock as he felt the teeth leave his own skin. As sticky-wet heat coated his hand and he spilled himself deep inside Stiles, Derek felt their pack bond - their _Life-Mate Bond_ \- snap into place.

It was strong, and vibrant, and waves of contentment and pleasure and love were immediately pouring through it. Derek imagined he was sending something similar back to Stiles, though he wasn’t really trying to. He carefully shifted them onto their sides, slowly pulling out of Stiles as he tugged the younger man into his arms. Stiles moaned softly, a weak sort of protest, but settled against Derek’s side readily enough.

“I could get used to this.” Stiles mumbled sleepily, nuzzling Derek’s chest. “Awesome sex followed by snuggles. Best night ever.”

“Considering it’s technically our wedding night, I should hope so.” Derek laughed softly, turning his head and dropping a kiss to Stiles’ hair. “How do you feel?”

“Perfect.” Stiles yawned. “Sticky. Sore, in a good way. A little crowded and noisy inside my head, with all of these pack bonds. So...yeah, perfect.”

Derek pressed another kiss to Stiles’ hair and murmured to him. “Go to sleep, love. It’s been a long couple of days.” As Stiles settled into sleep, Derek closed his eyes and listened to the sound of his mate’s quiet, even breathing. He fell asleep to the feel of more than half a dozen pack bonds for the first time in nine years. His last thought before slipping into dreams was that Stiles had been right. _Perfect_ just about covered it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, this week requires no new tags. Actually, I'm trying to remember, but we might have no new tags for the rest of the fic. Like, all tags that would be required for future chapters have already been used for previous chapters, unless I'm forgetting something random. So, that's cool.
> 
> Second off, we are drawing close to the end of the fic! I'd like to see some guesses about 1) what the Monster of the Week is, and 2) what Stiles is planning at the end of this chapter. So pretty please, leave me some love in the comments and let me know what your theories/guesses are!
> 
> ~ Sly

Stiles smiled and called out without opening his eyes. “Hey, Derek. No need to lurk like that. You’re welcome to join us.”

Stiles felt Alluria’s laughter as his mate entered the clearing and spoke grumpily. “It’s kind of creepy how you do that. Your heart and breathing are at a resting rate.”

“That’s because I’m accessing my link to the land, through Alluria.” Stiles opened his eyes, meeting Derek’s gaze. “It keeps my body in a steady rhythm.”

“Right.” Stiles watched as Derek approached, sitting on the edge of Alluria’s old stump. He reached out, fingers stopping a breath away from the smooth bark of the three foot tall sapling in the center. “I want to say thank you, but...”

“A lifetime of distrust is hard to overcome.” Stiles said. Derek nodded and Alluria sent understanding and patience along the bond. “She gets it. She’ll wait until you’re ready, Der. Or...”

“Or...?”

Stiles tapped his staff, which was glowing faintly even in the bright sunlight of the clearing. “Or I can strengthen your bond to her. Laura and Malia are newly tied to her, and their links are nearly as strong as mine. Peter’s bond to her outstrips theirs. It’s a match for mine, easily. If I boost yours, you’ll be able to talk to her yourself. It might help. But it’s your choice.”

Derek looked at Alluria consideringly, fingers still not-quite touching her. He slowly drew back, but nodded. “Okay. How do we do it?”

Stiles smiled, fingers curling around the staff, and let his eyes glow as he called up his magic. “Slice your palm, then make a fist and let blood spill over her roots until you heal.”

Derek obeyed without hesitation, and Stiles felt warmth course through him at the trust implied by that. As Derek’s blood spilled, he murmured. “Blood, offered freely, to strengthen a bond. To the pack. To the territory. To the Nemeton in our charge.”

Alluria’s happiness skated across Stiles’ awareness. The way Derek gasped told him that the beta felt it, too. She sent memories next. Talia, heavy with child and newly minted as an alpha, touching a full-sized Alluria and looking uncertain as a young Peter begged her to have the baby in the clearing, where _he_ had been born. Her joy when Talia brought infant twins - one male, one female - to meet her...and her sorrow that they hadn't been born in her embrace, as Peter had been. Laura’s resurrection, and now Derek spilling blood to her, so she could finally talk to them both; _know them_ both.

“Oh...” Derek pressed his palm to her narrow young trunk, looking pained. “We should have been hers. All of us. Even our mother. Cora...Cora needs to do this, too. As soon as possible. Alluria needs to be able to feel _all_ of us this way. And Hale pack children need to be born in her clearing again. When the time comes for that, I mean.”

“I agree.” Laura’s voice had them both turning to look at her. She and Cora were in leggings and sports bras, dark hair pulled up into matching ponytails, clearly out for a run. “If Mom had been born here like Peter, she would never have allowed Alluria to be hurt. And if _I_ had been connected to her, I’d never have gone to New York. Cora wouldn’t have run away either, if she’d had that bond.”

Cora moved closer, holding out her hand. “So I just bleed for her, right?”

Stiles grinned as Derek carefully used one claw to split his baby sister’s palm. “Yup. You just give her a little taste and I’ll take care of the rest.” Cora made a fist, dripping blood onto the dirt at Alluria’s base, and Stiles pulled up his magic again, murmuring. “Blood, offered freely, to strengthen a bond. To the pack. To the territory. To the Nemeton in our charge.”

Cora made a soft sound of surprise, crawling onto the stump between Stiles and Derek as she reached for Alluria. “You didn’t get to know me as a child. Not even as a baby, like you did with Derek and Laura. I’m sorry about that.”

Alluria sent sympathy out, and love, and unadulterated joy. Cora smiled slightly. “Yeah, it’s good to feel pack again. Thank you, for your part in that. In giving me back my family.”

“It’s good for her, the way you’re all reinforcing your bonds.” Stiles said. “With her, but also with each other. The stronger our pack is, the stronger Alluria will be.”

“Good.” Laura grinned. “I want her strong and healthy.”

Stiles’ phone went off almost at the exact moment Derek’s did. They exchanged knowing looks as they picked up. “Hey, Dad.”

At the same time, Derek said. “Jordan. What’s wrong?”

Stiles listened to his dad, deliberately tuning out Derek. _“Another body. I need intel on whatever is doing this. Can you get Laura here?”_

“Absolutely.” Stiles agreed as soon as Laura nodded. “Text me an address. We’ll do what we can at the scene, then I’ll hit research mode. We’ll figure this out.”

_“Alright son.”_ Noah sighed in his ear, then added. _“Eye on the ball, Stiles. You’re usually the one who figures these things out, so I need you focused.”_

“I know.” Stiles said softly. “No distractions. I’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Stiles hung up and Derek said to him. “We have to go. Fast. I can run you out faster than you can walk.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Stiles’ eyes lit gold as he added. “Laura, come put a hand on Alluria for me. We’re hitching a ride on a telluric current. Ley lines are a hell of a lot faster than even werewolves can run.”

As soon as Laura was in contact with the Nemeton, Stiles tapped into Alluria’s newly restored power. He found the ley line he wanted and _tugged,_ pulling them all along it. Stiles got them as close to the cars as he could. The Camaro was parked beside his jeep and Derek’s Toyota at the trailhead, and they were about five minutes out in the woods when Stiles let the ley line - and Alluria’s power - go. He opened his eyes, immediately checking on Derek.

“You’re okay, right?” He asked, touching Derek’s cheek lightly. “I’ve been practicing with moving that way, but I’ve never had a passenger before, let alone three.”

“I’m good.” Derek promised.

Cora snorted. “We’re fine, too, you know.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Forgive me for checking on my magical husband before anyone else. How remiss of me.”

Laura started walking. “You’ve been bonded for almost a week. Aren’t you past the honeymoon phase yet?” Stiles stuck his tongue out at her, making her laugh. “I’ll take that as a no.”

When they reached the trailhead a few minutes later, she whistled appreciatively. “That’s a damn useful skill, Stiles. Can you move people anywhere?”

“Anywhere along the land’s natural ley lines.” Stiles explained as he headed for the jeep. “Which is a lot of the town and the Preserve, because we’re kind of a hotbed of telluric currents here in Beacon Hills. One car or two?”

“You can drive.” Laura said agreeably as she toed off her sneakers. “Got a leash and all that handy?”

Stiles nodded as he opened the back of the jeep, stowing his staff and pulling out what he’d need for Laura. “Yup. We keep them in all our cars and houses, just in case.” He turned just in time to watch the alpha shift, then held up the collar. “Come suit up, then.”

As he strapped her into the new - larger - vest Peter had ordered, Cora put Laura’s clothes and shoes in the backseat. Derek had already claimed shotgun, while Laura joined her sister in the back as soon as Stiles was done outfitting her. After closing up the back, Stiles circled the jeep and slid behind the wheel, heading for the address his dad had texted him. As he drove, he did his best to push his earlier conversation with Alluria and the land out of his mind. He’d promised his dad no distractions. If he was going to figure out what was currently hunting in Beacon Hills, he needed to focus. The rest would have to wait.

~*~*~*~

“I’m pretty sure it’s a female.” Stiles said as he swiped through the digitized bestiary he and Lydia had been assembling since after the Nogitsune. They’d added creatures and updated entries as they got information, either from books, from other supernaturals, or from firsthand experience. “Something with the ability to seduce, charm, or lure victims in for a kill. Like a siren, or a rusalka.”

“You’re saying that because of the four male victims.” Lydia said, holding her own tablet, which was doubtless open to the bestiary as well.

“But there was a female victim, too.” Laura pointed out, flipping through one of the lore books Peter had offered up. They were in Peter’s new apartment in Derek’s building, doing the promised research, while Peter and Cora went to get more books from the vault.

“Yeah, but that was the fourth victim.” Stiles said, still swiping through the various entries, skimming in the hopes something would jump out at him. “That was the one outside Jungle. So, odds being what they are...”

Lydia hummed thoughtfully. “You’re thinking she was a lesbian.”

Stiles shrugged. “Or bi, or pan. Not straight, anyway.” Stiles paused on an entry about lorelei, but none of the victims were drowned and none of the bodies had turned up near water, so he moved on. “But yes, I’m leaning towards something that relies on an attraction to women to lure its prey.”

Laura made a face. “Can we stick to saying _victims_ instead of _prey?”_

“As a general rule...” Lydia spoke dryly, though her face was softened with sympathy. “If they’ve been chewed on, we have to call them prey, because their consumption speaks to a feeding-based motive, as opposed to a general bloodlust, or sacrificial killing.”

Laura pulled another face and Stiles shrugged apologetically. “I know it’s unpleasant, but the _why_ can often lead to a _who._ Or, in this case, more likely a _what._ So it’s an important distinction to make.”

“We’re missing something.” Lydia grumbled, swiping in the other direction now and looking increasingly annoyed. “We’re missing an angle, or a clue, or a connection, or...or _something.”_

Something sad passed behind her eyes and Stiles knew what she was thinking about, because he was thinking it, too. The two of them thought differently from each other, but they both approached things from a certain level of intelligence. Laura wasn’t on their level, but she had a lifetime of experience with the supernatural that had her approaching from a different angle. They were short a perspective. A down-to-earth, cut through the logical red tape, common sense point of view. It had been missing for a while, and it definitely hindered them.

Stiles knew he and Lydia would reach the answer eventually; they always did. He just didn’t know if they’d reach it before the body count hit six. Or higher.

With that thought nagging him, he asked. “What are you two doing tonight? Say, between two and three-thirty am?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. We are nearing the end! There's some fun bits in this chapter that I really like, and some rougher moments, and at least a little more info on some things that are going on.
> 
> I didn't add any new tags for this chapter, as I don't think any are needed. Pretty sure they were all hit on in the earlier chapters. After this, there's two more chapters and an epilogue and then we'll be done. So I hope you like the latest installment, and don't forget to leave me some love in the comments.
> 
> ~ Sly

Derek wondered how this had become his life. He and Laura lifted the coffin out of the hole and rested it on the grass, both of them sweaty and covered in dirt. Stiles was observing with glowing eyes, hands curled around his magic-lit staff. Beside him was Lydia, who was holding a bag of clothes with the hand _not_ bearing a bandage. And really, if Derek never again witnessed a silent banshee scream, it would be too soon. There was something deeply disconcerting about it. On Stiles’ other side was Chris Argent. He also had a bandage wound around one hand, and he was cradling a small wooden box. Inside that box was a crystal orb, which - according to Stiles - now housed a soul.

It had been one thing to hear about the rituals Stiles had used to bring Laura back to life, but it was a different matter entirely to witness one.

Derek boosted Laura out of the grave, then let her help pull him out. Stiles’ staff glowed a little brighter, then the tombstone at the head of the now-empty grave was blank. Stiles had done the same thing to Laura’s grave, and it had garnered no attention. He knew that Jordan and Malia had carried Laura’s coffin to the Nemeton, though they’d used the jeep to transport it from the cemetery to the trailhead.

Now, Stiles said. “I need everyone in direct physical contact. And make sure one of you is touching the coffin. We’re on a time limit, so let’s go.”

Derek touched the dirty wood, and took Laura’s hand. She reached out and touched Stiles. Lydia put one hand on Chris and the other on Stiles. With them all connected, Stiles did whatever the hell he’d done two days earlier when the latest body had been found. Between one heartbeat and the next, there was an extended pause - a moment where Derek couldn't blink or move or even breathe - and suddenly they were in the Nemeton’s clearing. Stiles was a little pale and a little shaky, but everyone else seemed okay.

“You alright?” Derek asked, moving close enough to touch his cheek lightly.

“I’m good.” Stiles promised softly. “Chris has no magic, and Lyds isn’t tied to the Nemeton, so moving them is harder. So was moving the coffin. Factor in that we started close to a ley line but not quite _on_ it at the cemetery and yeah, it was more draining. But I’m more than capable of doing the ritual.”

Alluria pushed reassurance at Derek, reminding him that Stiles could borrow power from her if he needed to. “Okay.” He said, because he’d learned that arguing with Stiles about if he was going to do something was pointless almost as soon as he’d met him. “What do you need us to do?”

“Open the coffin, then stand by in case it goes badly.” Stiles said, sounding tired. “It worked with Laura, but she’s a werewolf and there was an alpha spark involved as well as an extra sacrifice. I’ve had to adjust certain elements of the ritual to account for the differences this time around. Hopefully it still works, but I want you ready if it doesn’t.”

Derek nodded then pried open the coffin. He avoided looking into it, not wanting to see the state of the body inside, but he stayed close. Stiles gestured Chris closer, taking the box from him and passing it to Derek. He held it carefully, watched as Chris unwrapped his hand. Stiles silently drew his athame lightly over the fresh wound on the older man’s palm, reopening it. Chris made a fist, face stoic as blood spilled over the dirt, then Stiles guided his hand so he could bleed over the remains in the coffin.

“Blood of family, to bind and tie.” Stiles murmured. “To family, to home, and to one’s self.”

As Chris redressed his hand, a deer - a doe, old enough to have no spots - stepped up to Stiles. He fed something to it - a slice of pear, if Derek was scenting it right around the overwhelming copper tang of blood - then Derek heard him thank the animal. Even knowing what was coming, it was something of a shock to watch his mate slit the deer’s throat. Blood sprayed into the coffin, then Stiles let the body fall as the ground - and Alluria - soaked up the rest.

“Blood of the forest, sacrificed as payment. Life for life.”

Next, Stiles held out his hand to Laura, who let him slice her palm. She spilled her blood to both the coffin and the Nemeton, and Stiles recited. “Blood of the Hale alpha, freely given, to welcome the fallen back to the territory.”

Stiles cut his own palm next. He let his blood drip as he said. “Blood of a Mage, to lend a spark of magic and life. A gift of power, from myself and the land and the Nemeton, to one who protected this place and all those in it. A thank you, for service and sacrifice beyond measure.”

Stiles reached for the box in Derek’s hands, so he opened it and let his mate retrieve the crystal orb. The Mage held it over the body and chanted. “Anima corpori. Fuerit corpus totem resurgent.”

A blinding light filled the coffin and everyone turned away, shielding their eyes at the same time. As the light faded, Derek could hear a steady heartbeat and slow, even breathing. He looked at the coffin, then peered into it when Stiles did. As they watched, dark eyelashes fluttered against rosy cheeks, then lifted to reveal wide, golden-brown eyes. She blinked slowly and Derek kept his eyes on her puzzled expression, rather than on the rest of her, where fair skin was peeking through torn and ruined clothing.

“Stiles?” She asked softly, though she didn’t move except to speak and blink. “And Derek? I don’t...where’s Scott? And Isaac, I...” She trailed off, then said. “Why doesn’t it hurt? Am I still dying?”

“No, you’re not.” Stiles told her softly. “You finished dying almost two years ago, but it’s okay. I brought you back. You’ll see Scott and Isaac soon and I’ll answer any questions you have. But, for right now, I need to know how you feel. Can you sit up?”

“Of course.” Derek watched silently as she did just that, dark hair spilling over her shoulders in loose waves. “And I feel okay. A little disoriented, maybe.”

Stiles nodded. “That’s fine. Laura felt like that at first, too. It’ll pass.”

She looked past Stiles then and spotted Chris. Her eyes widened and she whispered tearfully. “Daddy?”

“Allison...” Chris stepped closer, reaching out to cup Allison’s face in both hands before kissing her forehead and murmuring. “I missed you, sweetie. You really feel okay? No pain or weirdness or anything?”

Allison laughed, a dimple flashing in her cheek. “Other than coming back from the dead...no, no weirdness.” She wrinkled her nose and added. “Though the zombie-chic clothing isn’t really working for me.”

“Which is why I’ve got clothes for you.” Lydia held up the bag, smiling despite the tears dampening her cheeks. “Why don’t you let Derek help you out of there so you can get dressed?”

Derek obediently moved forward, setting the empty wooden box in the coffin before lifting Allison out of it bridal-style. He set her carefully on Alluria’s stump, then turned his back to her. Chris turned away as well, while Stiles focused on storing the crystal orb back in its box. He could hear it as Lydia and Laura helped Allison get dressed. Lydia was quietly filling Allison in on some of what she’d missed at the same time. He kept his eyes on Stiles, who was now cleaning his athame, preparing to put it away with the rest of his ritual tools and supplies.

“Stiles?” Everyone turned together to face Allison, who looked sweet and lovely and innocent sitting beside Alluria. “Thank you.”

Stiles moved close enough to hug her. “You’re very welcome.” As he drew back, he asked softly. “What do you want to do now? Eat, sleep, see everyone...?”

Allison flashed that dimpled smile again. “Can I eat _while_ seeing everybody? Then I want to sleep for a few hours before helping you guys figure out our latest mystery monster. But food and letting everyone know I’m back feels like priority number one.”

“Alright. I’ll mass-text a meeting at the loft.” Stiles’ fingers were already flying over his screen, tapping away as he typed. “Shouldn’t take them long to get there.”

“It’ll take _us_ a bit, though.” Allison said. “The Nemeton isn't exactly a short walk or anything.”

Derek watched Stiles grin. “That’s why we’ll be taking the express route back to our cars at the cemetery. If everyone could please touch Alluria...”

When everyone had obeyed, Stiles once again did his little magic trick with the ley lines and set them in the cemetery, though not near Allison’s old grave. It was certainly an efficient mode of transportation, but it made Derek uncomfortable. It reminded him too much of Jennifer. She had used the telluric currents to transport her victims, and to move around quickly and stealthily. He knew Stiles was nothing like her, but as everyone prepared to make the short walk back to their cars to head to the loft, Derek made a mental note to ask Stiles _not_ to transport him that way again.

~*~*~*~

Stiles laughed as they arrived in the cemetery, then moved to take a step towards the cars. Instead, his legs buckled under him. Derek swore and caught the younger man, cradling him against his chest. Stiles was limp in his arms, head lolling uselessly, his breathing shallow and his pulse thready. Derek was angry, and afraid, and he wanted to scream at Stiles for being so reckless and stupid and irresponsible.

“Melissa’s already on her way to the loft with Scott.” Laura said lowly, standing close but taking care not to touch Derek...or Stiles. “She’ll tell us if he needs to go to the hospital or not. Come on.”

As they reached the cars, Stiles stirred in his arms. “W’s’appen’?” He said, words slurring together as his head lifted for a moment before dropping heavily onto Derek’s shoulder again.

“What happened?” Derek bit out sharply, glaring down at him, though it was more fear than anything else making his words come out so harshly. _“What happened,_ is that you passed out. Were you like this after Laura?”

“No.” Stiles mumbled, eyelashes fluttering as he struggled to keep his eyes open while he added. “M’so tired...”

Allison was hovering worriedly next to Derek. “Is he okay?”

“I think he just over-exerted himself.” Laura told the young hunter gently, because Derek was still just glaring. “But we should get to the loft so Derek can let Melissa check him over. Newly mated werewolves can be a little overprotective.”

Allison blinked, stunned. “Mated?”

“I’ll explain on the drive over.” Lydia promised, guiding Allison towards’ Chris’ truck. Laura climbed behind the wheel of the jeep while Derek carefully got into the backseat with Stiles. The drive was short, and silent.

Derek didn’t say anything at all, in fact, until he was walking into the loft. Melissa was at his side immediately as he laid Stiles down on the couch. “Has he woken up at all?”

“He’s been in and out.” Derek told her. “He said he felt tired.”

No one spoke for several minutes, everyone crowded around the couch as Melissa carefully checked Stiles over. Finally, she smiled up at Derek. “He’s exhausted. I don’t like how far he’s pushed himself, but he’ll be okay. A couple of hours sleep, then orange juice and water and protein. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich would be a good start. More sleep, then foods that will help him build up his energy stores. And I’m suggesting no magic for a few days.”

“Done.” Derek agreed, one hand petting Stiles’ hair as he spoke. “He’ll rest and recover if I have to tie him to the bed to ensure it.”

“I’m so sorry.” Allison offered, sounding miserable. “This is all because of me...”

Derek watched in amusement as Melissa, Noah, Jordan, Scott, Isaac, and Kira all startled at Allison’s words. Peter, Cora, and Malia were snickering behind their hands. All three of them had, of course, noticed her arrival. The others had been focused on Derek carrying in an unconscious Stiles and hadn't seen her follow her father into the loft. Derek might have been laughing, too, if he hadn't been so worried about Stiles. Melissa’s assurances aside, Stiles was pale and unconscious and it was stressing Derek out on an instinctual level.

“It’s not your fault.” Peter said at last. “Alluria says it was a combination of things that caused this. She’s already feeding power back into him, so he’ll be fine. He does need to figure out how to pace himself, though. He’s still learning how to tap into Alluria and the land’s power and he obviously didn’t borrow as much as he should have.”

Allison side-eyed Peter. “Do we trust you now or something?”

Chris laughed, leaning down to kiss his daughter’s dark hair. “God, I’ve missed your overly suspicious nature. Yes, we trust Peter. He helped bring Laura back, which allowed _you_ to come back.”

She sighed, looking annoyed, but nodded. “Alright. I guess I can give it a shot.”

Peter smiled charmingly. “Would it help to know I’m dating your father?”

There were wild reactions all around. Some people were making faces or gagging, others were laughing, and other looked shocked or horrified. As Allison choked on nothing, Chris shouted. “Dammit, Peter, we are _not_ dating!”

“Oh, shit....” Cora gasped out around hysterical laughter, clutching at the table to stay upright as she pulled in choked, wheezing breaths. “Somebody needs to have a D-T-R conversation because neither of them lied.”

“Dee-tee-are?” Malia asked; she still struggled with certain things despite being much better adjusted than when she’d first regained her human form.

Scott groaned, looking a little ill, while Lydia offered. “It means _define the relationship_ and it’s used when there’s uncertainty regarding how serious - or not - an entanglement is.”

Allison turned to stare at her father with narrowed eyes. “What, exactly, have you been doing with Peter Hale since I’ve been gone?”

“Nothing!”

“Lie.” Derek offered, because Peter was family. And also, this was _hilarious._ When Chris glared at him, he shrugged. “She can’t hear your heart, but most of us can. Pretty stupid to lie, considering.”

Peter sighed, a hurt look on his face. Derek was pretty sure it was genuine, based on what he was feeling through their pack bond. “If it’s _nothing,_ Christopher - nothing, after all this time and everything we’ve been through - then you’ll forgive me for ending it now. Because it’s not nothing to me. It’s never been _nothing_ to me.”

Allison turned wide eyes on Derek and, in the interest of fairness, he said. “Truth.”

“We were..._I_ was...” Chris stammered, face flushed. When Allison and Peter both stared at him in expectant silence, he cleared his throat and said stiffly. “Peter and I were...involved. Once. Before I married your mother. But he was young, and neither Talia or your grandfather approved, so I...I ended things. Married Victoria.”

“And I never intruded.” Peter said sharply. “You chose your duty to your father over me and I hated you for it, but I respected your choice regardless. I left you alone, right up until the day you moved away. I never once intruded, or even approached you, after you married her. I let you go, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Chris agreed softly. “But the last year...”

“I pursued you. I’ll admit that.” Peter bit out, eyes flashing blue. “But you hardly objected, Christopher, so don’t make this out to be one-sided. You went out for coffee with me. We talked. We had dinner together, _and breakfast,_ and all that that implies. We watched movies and tv. More than that, we _talked._ We talked about our time apart, and the future. So don’t you _dare_ stand there and pretend this was me being obsessed, or act like I built a relationship out of a hook-up. I deserve more than that. You _owe me_ more than that.”

“Is that true?” Allison asked, her voice small and uncertain. “Is he telling the truth?”

Chris stared at his daughter, looking afraid to speak; as though the wrong word or phrase might shatter him. Derek had never imagined the hunter as _vulnerable_ before; it was disconcerting.

Finally, Chris croaked out. “I don’t...Allison, it’s complicated. Things with Peter have always been _so goddamn complicated,_ and I...I just...”

He trailed off, and Allison’s tongue came out to moisten her lips. She chewed on the lower one for a moment, then finally asked softly. “Daddy...do you love him?”

Chris swallowed hard, but nodded, and Derek wondered how this would play out. Then Allison reached out and brushed her fingers over his arm, saying gently. “I would never ask you to give up someone you love. _Never._ Especially not when you were already forced to give him up once.” She smiled slightly and added. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. Even if it _is_ with Peter Hale.”

Chris choked out a teary laugh. “I’m happy, sweetheart. Between Peter and having you back...yeah, I’m happy.” Allison nodded and Chris said wonderingly. “I can’t believe how lucky I am, to have such an amazing daughter.”

As Allison blushed, Peter crossed to Chris, cupping his face and brushing the tears away with his thumbs as he murmured. “How can you be surprised by how loving and supportive your daughter is? She was raised by you. She could hardly be anything else.”

“Flatterer.” Chris replied, voice halfway between laughter and tears. He leaned down, letting their foreheads touch. “I’m sorry. I never should have asked you to be a secret.”

Peter’s mouth curved up into a wicked smile. “It made teasing you fun, so I didn’t mind at first. I understood you needing time before we told anyone. I just...wasn’t expecting it to take quite this long, that’s all.”

“As sickeningly adorable as you two are - and as hilarious as some of that was - you’re kind of overshadowing the purpose of this little get-together.”

Derek startled at the sound of Stiles’ voice. “Are you alright, love?”

Stiles huffed in amusement. “Tired and hungry, but otherwise fine.” He promised. “Also, I didn’t bring Allison back for Peter and Chris to steal my thunder. Or hers.”

Just then, Scott pulled Allison into a hug, saying. “It’s good to have you back. We missed you.”

Allison smiled that Disney princess smile at him. “Thanks. Lydia told me that you and Kira are still together. That’s great.”

“Yeah, it is.” Scott laughed as Kira moved to stand next to him, leaning into his side as he slid an arm around her waist. “She’s pretty amazing.”

Kira ducked her head, grinning and blushing. “Welcome back, Allison. I know we didn’t have much of a chance to get to know each other before, but I’d like it if we tried this time around. I mean, we’re both good friends with Lydia, so...”

“I’m sure we’ll get along great.” Allison told her, and Derek had to admire the honesty in her statement. It seemed like she wasn’t jealous of Kira at all.

The reason for that was made clear a moment later when she spotted Isaac; her whole face lit up. Derek winced and Stiles muttered. “This is gonna _suck.”_

“Isaac!” Allison moved towards him, arms out as though she was going to embrace him. He stepped back quickly, bringing her up short, uncertainty painting itself across her face. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Is that supposed to be a joke?” Isaac asked coldly, but Derek could see the way his former-beta was trembling. “You were dying...and I had to watch as you told _Scott_ that you were glad you got to do it in _his_ arms. The arms of your first love. Like I wasn’t even there. Or worse, like me being there didn’t matter.”

Allison bit her lip. “Isaac, I...it was a complicated situation. But you know that I...I care about you. So much. I asked about you right away, and-”

_“Lie.”_ Isaac hissed, curling into himself the way he did when he was hurt or overwhelmed; when he didn’t want to be touched. Derek hated seeing it, especially because Isaac didn’t do it much anymore. “You just _lied_ Allison. Guess you forgot I can hear that damn uptick in your heart, right?”

“Hey, now.” Lydia broke in, frowning. “You were the second person she asked about when she opened her eyes. It literally took her thirty seconds to ask about where you were.”

Isaac turned that cold look on her and asked dangerously. “Yeah? And who was the first person she asked for? Huh, Lyds? Because unless it was her dad, my point stands.”

No one said anything for a long moment. Finally, Allison said. “Scott. I asked where Scott was...and you. I asked in the same _breath,_ Isaac. And...and I only said his name first because my last memory was of dying and I-”

“You did that in _Scott’s_ arms.” Isaac cut her off. “Yeah, I know. I was right there, watching as the girl I was most of the way in love with exchanged tragic goodbyes with her ex-boyfriend without even glancing in my direction.”

“That’s not fair.” Allison said, looking agitated. “You know how complicated my history with him is. That doesn’t mean I want to be with him.”

“I never said it did.” Isaac shook his head. “But there’s something I really need you to understand. Your _complicated history_ with Scott might not mean you want to be with him, but it _does_ mean that _I_ don’t want to be with _you._ After you died, it was painfully clear that you’d never really moved on from Scott and I had to accept that. So I did. And then, _I_ moved on.”

Derek watched in surprise as Malia moved close enough to slide her hand into Isaac’s. “It’s good you’re back.” Isaack finished softly as Malia’s touch seemed to leech all of the anger out of him. “And I’m glad you’re alive right now. But it’s been almost two years, and you didn’t exactly leave me with a loving goodbye, Ali. So you need to understand that you don’t get to just...step back into your life and pick up where you left off. Not with me, anyway. I’m sure we can be friends, eventually, but that’s all.”

Allison swallowed hard, but nodded. “Okay.” She took a step back, adding. “I think it would be a good idea for me to go home now. Sleep some. Dad?” She gave Chris a desperate look, then said to Stiles. “I...I’ll let you know when I wake up and we’ll do the whole research thing, okay?”

Stiles nodded as Chris put a protective arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his body. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ll take you home.”

There were quiet goodbyes all around. Melissa and Noah both hugged Allison, as did Lydia. When Chris finally ushered her out, it didn’t take long before everyone else left, too. Scott quietly thanked Stiles for bringing Allison back. Lydia promised to text him in the morning. Melissa repeated her care-instructions and hugged him gently. Most of the others left without much more than a goodbye.

Noah was the last to go. “You did a good thing, kiddo. Don’t let the situation make you doubt that.” He kissed Stiles’ hair, then clapped Derek on the shoulder. “Make sure he eats before you put him to bed, son, and thank you for taking care of him.”

Then, with a quick goodbye, Noah was gone as well.

Once they were alone, Derek went to the kitchen. He brought back a huge glass of orange juice, and a peanut butter and banana sandwich because Stiles had an aversion to all things jelly and Derek was out of Nutella. As he handed them to Stiles - who had pulled himself up to sitting - the younger man gave him a grateful smile.

“Thanks.” He took a deep drink, draining a third of the tall glass. Then, he took a bite of the sandwich, saying around it. “S’good.”

“I’m going to refrain from yelling at you, because you’re exhausted.” Derek said, very softly. Stiles looked up, tawny eyes wide and panicked and making him look an awful lot like a startled deer. “But if you _ever_ scare me like that again, I swear I’ll-”

“You’ll rip my throat out with your teeth?”

The attempt at humor didn’t make him smile. Very seriously, Derek said. “I’ll wrap you in bubble wrap and lock you in my room to keep you safe.” He cupped Stiles’ cheek and added in a whisper. “I can’t lose you, Stiles.”

“You won’t.” Stiles promised, turning his head to press a kiss to Derek’s palm. “I’ll be more careful. And, honestly?” Stiles smiled ruefully. “Not exactly eager to bring anybody else back after how Allison’s return went over like a lead balloon.”

“That’s not your fault.” Derek said. “Allison’s actions were put aside because she was dead, so what was the point in bringing them up? Now that she’s back, those actions are going to have consequences. But it’s not on _you._ Like Laura and Peter, Allison will have to face the mistakes she made and the people they hurt. And she will.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He set the now-empty glass on the coffee table, then asked softly. “Carry me to bed, Sourwolf?”

Derek grinned at the old nickname even as he scooped Stiles up into his arms. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go.” He climbed the stairs, noting when Stiles became dead weight in his arms before they reached the top.

He carefully stripped his sleeping mate, then himself, before slipping into the bed. As he let Stiles’ rhythmic breathing lull him to sleep, Derek wondered how he’d gotten so damn lucky. Stiles was a dream come true.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh; we're really winding down here, aren't we?
> 
> In this chapter, you'll get an answer to our _Monster of the Week_ mystery - which someone did manage to guess in the comments, and which a couple of people got fairly close to - as well as some info on something else Stiles is going to get up to the next chapter. Feel free to try to guess who Stiles is talking about with Derek in the final scene of the chapter!
> 
> After this, we have a final chapter that's going to involve a lot of wrap-up and tidying of loose-ends and such. And then there will be only the epilogue. I can't believe we're almost done with this! You guys have been so amazing and supportive as I posted this weekly, and I hope you all enjoy these last three installments. Remember, comments are love so leave me some down below. ❤️
> 
> ~ Sly

“This is really cool.” Allison admitted as she fiddled with the tablet. “Can we use the digitized bestiary to filter entries by key words?”

“Yup.” Stiles touched her screen with his stylus, showing her how to pull up the box where she could put in the search parameters. “We’ve searched reptile, lizard, sewers, neurotoxin, allure, charm...none of it’s pulling up anything that matches enough points to be viable. So we’re thinking we might be dealing with something we don’t have an entry for yet. And the lore books aren’t as easy to search through, for obvious reasons.”

Allison nodded, tapping away with her own stylus. “Do you have a list of the words you’ve tried filtering by?” Lydia dug it out, handing it over. Allison skimmed the list twice, then asked curiously. “Neither of you tried searching _snake_ instead of _reptile_ or _lizard?”_

Stiles blinked rapidly as Lydia admitted. “I honestly didn’t think of it. I saw shed skin and scales and my mind went to Jackson, and kanimas, and lizards.”

“It’s a lamia.” Stiles rasped, the name jumping into his mind instantly. “I have no idea what the hell a lamia _is,_ mind you, but...that’s what it is.”

“According to this...” Lydia said slowly, her eyes scanning rapidly over whatever she’d pulled up on her tablet. “Lamia are native to Greece. From the waist up, they look like a beautiful woman, though they’re smaller than an average human. From the waist down, they’re a snake. Poison barb on the tip of their tail, that myths say turns men to stone.”

Stiles hummed consideringly. “So likely a paralytic neurotoxin, which holds with the MO. They chow down on their victims?”

“Yes.” Lydia clicked something else, adding. “Believed to be related to the Naga, which are native to Thailand and the surrounding regions. They’re half-snake as well, but their upper half is more on par with an actual human, size-wise. Unlike lamia, who are very animalistic, Naga have human-like intelligence, are capable of human speech, and have even been known to mate with humans.”

“Anything on how we kill them?” Allison asked. “Or how we’re supposed to track the damn thing down, even?”

“Nothing on tracking.” Lydia said. “But the lore books might help us there now that we know what we’re looking for. As for killing one...the snake part is supposed to be as hard to pierce as armor, and they have scales over their chest and belly as well that serve as extra protection. Seems like there’s a precedent for cutting off the head, so that might kill it, but getting that close isn’t easy because of their tail.”

“She’ll be fast as hell.” Stiles muttered, rubbing his temples to try to forestall the headache that always accompanied accessing the information left by Void without a nightmare or Alluria’s help. “But fire works, too. If we can trap her, we can torch her.”

Seeing the way Allison stared at him, he explained. “The Nogitsune left behind a lot of information in my head. It’s how I was able to bring you and Laura back.”

“Well. That’s useful.” Allison touched Stiles’ hand lightly. “You know I’m not about to split hairs over where information came from. I just want to help. To...to figure out where I fit in, after all this. Because right now, I really don’t know.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Stiles told her. “Once the territory stabilizes a little more, Beacon Hills won’t have much need - if any - for a hunter, so you’ll be able to retire for real. You’ll be able to go to college, or do whatever you want. And you’ll always be welcome in Beacon Hills. You sacrificed yourself to Alluria and she’ll never forget that. Neither will I.”

“Maybe I’ll stay.” Allison said softly. “Maybe I’ll go to college, then come back. Or maybe I’ll go hunt someplace else. Carve out a place for myself in some other corner of the world. I haven’t decided yet. But whatever I do, it’s because of you that I can. So if you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

Stiles laughed. “Right now, all I want to do is find and kill a lamia. We can worry about the rest of our lives later.” And really, that was that.”

~*~*~*~

Derek lowered his hands from his ears as the screaming finally stopped. Peter and Chris were searching the nearby sewer tunnels to make sure the lamia hadn't laid any eggs. Stiles was leaning heavily against a wall, sooty and out of breath but otherwise fine. Allison was a little banged up - she’d been thrown into a wall - but everyone else was already healing from the fight. The acrid smell of burnt flesh was lingering in the close air of the sewer they were in, and the air was thick with smoke from the smoldering remains of the lamia. Overall, Derek was going to call it a win.

“I can’t believe that bitch was immune to magic.” Stiles grumbled as he moved closer to the body. “Gotta remember to put that in the bestiary.”

“Technically, she wasn’t immune.” Allison pointed out, poking curiously at a charred arm with the tip of an arrow. “Your spells just couldn't penetrate the snakeskin. When you finally hit her arm, it totally worked.”

Stiles nodded, looking a little distracted as he crouched down by the massive, coiled length of serpent tail - between twenty and twenty-five feet of it, if he had to guess - that was untouched by the fire. “Seems flame-resistant, too. And it held up against werewolf claws, arrows, bullets...”

Derek recognized Stiles’ speculative face. “What are you getting at?”

“If you started where the snakeskin meets the - admittedly crispy - human flesh, do you think you could skin her tail?”

“Uh...” Derek shrugged. “Maybe, if Laura helps. Why?”

“I’m thinking magic-resistant, fire-resistant, werewolf-resistant, weapon-resistant armor would be real handy.” Stiles said, running a hand over the sleek, green-black scales in front of him. “I’m getting decent with offensive spellwork, but I can’t keep up a shield _while_ attacking. So if I can be protected another way...”

Laura walked over, claws already out. “I’m sold. Come on, Der-Bear. Let’s see if we can skin this bitch for your mate.”

Derek wasn’t sure how his life had gotten to the point where helping his previously deceased twin sister skin a barbequed lamia for his mate to make protective clothing out of seemed like just another Tuesday night, but there he was. However it had happened, Derek wouldn’t have changed it for anything. Maybe it was strange, but this? This was the embodiment of what his life had been like since the day he’d met Stiles. This was everything that had allowed him to fall in love with Stiles, way back when he shouldn’t have. And while he was eager for peace - and certain Stiles would deliver on the promise of it - Derek knew that part of him would miss fighting side-by-side with the other man.

When Stiles smiled at him as he and Laura peeled back the snakeskin, Derek figured he could be okay without the fighting after all. As long as Stiles continued to smile at him like that, he’d be okay with whatever their life was like.

~*~*~*~

“Coffins make my life easier, Derek.” Stiles grumbled, using the needle he’d made from the lamia’s own barb to pierce the edge of a piece of lamia skin so it could be laced together with another. “It’s not like you couldn't afford them.”

“They were buried _in secret.”_ Derek said pointedly, watching as Stiles worked. There was something almost hypnotic about watching those long, slim hands craft something that was both beautiful and useful. “Coffins are the kind of purchase that draws attention. Also, what are you even making? I thought your cloak was finished.”

Stiles shot him a cross look. “First off, it’s a full-length hooded coat, not a cloak. Assassin’s Creed style, not Harry Potter. Second off, it’s Beacon Hills. Nobody pays attention to anything, including the things they should.” Stiles gestured for Allison to come closer, adding. “And third off, this is part of the armor I’m designing for Ally. My coat works for me because my magic requires only a small range of motion. Even using my staff, the coat isn’t in my way. But what _she_ does...”

“I have to be able to extend and contract my body in all sorts of ways.” Allison stripped her t-shirt off, then raised her arms as Stiles checked the front piece against her body. “To bend, to flex, to reach and roll and dive. It means my armor needs to hug my body closely but still allow my joints a full range of unrestricted motion.”

“It means part of her will always be exposed.” Stiles admitted, studying how far down Allison’s waist the armor went on the sides with a critical eye. “But it’ll still afford her a lot more protection than if she had nothing, or even if she had regular body armor.”

Derek nodded. “I guess you’re serious about hunting, then.”

“I am.” Allison agreed quietly. “For way too long, the hunters have gone unpoliced and I want to remedy that. Direct hunters to go after _real_ threats, not innocent people who happen to have claws and fangs. As Argent matriarch, I can do that. But it means I need to be the best. And part of that means having the best equipment.”

“Hey Der, hold the front piece in place while I lace the sides together with the back piece.” Stiles said. He did and Stiles grinned while pulling black leather lacing through the holes he’d made. He would add eyelets later, and use strips of lamia-skin for the lacing, but this was only a fitting.

When he had it rigged together, he hummed consideringly. “Do a few flips, would you? A tuck-and-roll, too. Just...move for me. Tell me how it feels.”

As Allison did a series of backflips, Derek touched Stiles’ arm lightly. “I know the lack of coffins is an issue, but we’ll work around it. I promise.”

Stiles sighed even as he watched Allison do a series of rolls. “Alright. A week, Derek. I want it all in place within a week. Make it happen for me.” Then, dismissing the beta, he crossed to Allison. “How’s it working out?”

“A little too high under my arms.” Allison said, touching to show him where. “It pinches if I move the wrong way. Not much of a hindrance, but it’s a distraction for sure.”

Stiles marked the armor with a piece of chalk so he could widen the arm holes, then he started to unlace the sides again. “I’ll tweak it, then have you test it again. Where did we land on the whole vambraces versus gloves debate?”

“On vambraces.” Allison said adamantly. “I can’t shoot my bow nearly as well in gloves. But you can have them come up over the back of my hands in a point, with a single loop to secure it around my middle finger, for a little extra coverage.”

Stiles nodded agreeably. “Sounds good. Any decisions yet on how your lower body armor should be designed?”

Allison laughed. “Lydia’s working up some sketches. She should have them to you in a couple of days. We can go over them together to discuss viability.”

“Sounds good.” Stiles carried the half-completed armor over to the workstation he’d set up in the loft. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to do another fitting.”

Allison slid her t-shirt back on and left, while Stiles used one of the lamia’s claws - which he’d made into a knife of sorts - to slice away the excess material he’d marked for removal. He sighed when Derek draped himself over his back, his arms circling Stiles’ waist. “Busy, love.”

“You can afford to take a break.” Derek promised, kissing the back of his neck and making the mating bite scar tingle. “You spent three whole weeks on that damn coat of yours. Now you’ve been working on Allison’s armor _for days._ I’ll be busy tomorrow with the preparations for the ritual. You can give me an hour right now.”

Stiles hummed, putting down the claw-knife as he asked. “Just _one_ hour, right?”

He felt Derek’s teeth as the wolf grinned against his skin. “Or two, or three. We’ll have to see how long it takes to wear you out, won’t we?”

And really, Stiles couldn't argue with a plan like that.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is going up late in the day, guys. I had my son's bookfair yesterday and today and I only just remembered I needed to post. XD
> 
> We...are almost done with this story! The only thing left after this is the epilogue! I do hope everyone enjoys this final chapter of _I'd Do Anything_ and don't forget to leave me some love in the comments. ❤️
> 
> ~ Sly

Derek watched as the blonde threw herself at Stiles, clinging to him. Stiles was laughing even as he wrapped his arms around her. “Welcome back, Catwoman.”

Erica laughed as well, leaning back in Stiles’ arms as she took in his appearance. Derek imagined it was a shock, seeing Stiles with glowing eyes, in his new armored lamia-skin coat. He finally looked like the Mage he was. “I’d call you Batman, but you look more like something out of a high-fantasy novel than a superhero.”

“Fair enough.” Stiles kissed her hair, then whispered. “Want to know something totally awesome?” When Erica nodded, Stiles gestured to Derek and added. “I’m mated to that.”

“You seriously mated yourself to _Stilinski?”_ Boyd asked, giving Derek an odd look. “Why in the world would you do that to yourself?”

“Hey!” Stiles protested. “I’m freakin’ _awesome,_ dude. As evidenced by the fact that the two of you are even _breathing_ right now. A little respect.”

Erica smirked at Derek, making him a little uneasy. “No wonder you got your panties in a twist when you learned I used to have a crush on Stiles. You wanted him for yourself.”

Derek felt his cheeks flush, but Stiles was already releasing Erica and moving over to Derek, to kiss him lightly. As he drew back, he murmured reassuringly. “I wouldn’t have almost drowned for you if I hadn't liked you, too. We’ve been over that.”

Derek huffed in amusement, teasing. “You liked my abs. And probably my ass.”

“Mmmm...and your biceps.” Stiles agreed, grinning. “And your grumpy disposition, and your stupid threats, and your creeper tendencies.”

“Before this dissolves into a full-on love-fest...” Laura broke in, drawing everyone’s attention to where she was standing beside Jordan, leaning into his side. “Hey, guys. I’m Laura Hale, and I’m the resident Hale alpha. As my brother turned you, I’m offering you a formal place in my pack, should you want it. But please, take some time to think about it. Meet my other betas and readjust to being alive. Then, let me know.”

“On that note...” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Let’s all head back to the Hale complex and get some food and rest. We’ll worry about introductions - and reintroductions - come morning.”

Derek followed Stiles and his former-betas, Jordan and Laura bringing up the rear, as they hiked out of the woods. After what had happened with Allison, Stiles had been forbidden from doing mass-transport after a resurrection. As he thought about how much of his pack he had gotten back, Derek couldn't help loving Stiles just a little bit more.

~*~*~*~

“I don’t want it.” Scott said, shifting uncomfortably in front of Stiles. “You were right when you said I never did. But I don’t want to be in Laura’s pack, either.”

Stiles’ eyes and staff lit up golden and Derek watched as Stiles asked. “You still interested in a cure, by any chance?”

Scott nodded and Stiles smiled. “Alright. This...might hurt, actually. But only because I’m going to try to make sure your asthma doesn’t come back when I do this.”

Derek cringed when Scott started screaming, but it was mercifully short-lived. The True Alpha’s eyes glowed red, then faded to gold, then changed back to their normal brown. And Derek could tell that he was human now, not a wolf. Scott looked weirdly happy for someone who was pale and sweaty and trembling, but Derek had always thought Scott was a little odd. Kira moved in to check on Scott while Stiles cradled a glowing red _something_ in his hands. It was pulsing, as though it were alive, and he seemed to be struggling to hold onto it.

Curious, Derek moved closer. “Wait...” Stiles cried out, swearing as Derek stopped beside him. “Fucking fuck, _no!”_

The red glow leapt out of Stiles’ hands, right at Derek. As Stiles reached for it, still swearing, it slammed into Derek’s chest and sent him staggering back. He met panicked amber eyes as he felt the thing burrow into him. Derek sank to the floor, hunched over on his hands and knees, shaking and gasping for air. That glowing red thing was wrapping around the part of Derek that was more wolf than human, and it made Derek want to _howl._

“No, no, no...” Stiles moaned, sliding to his knees in front of Derek and cupping Derek’s face with both hands. When he looked up, Derek was surprised by how frantic Stiles looked. “I’ll get it out, I swear. I’m sorry, baby. I’m _so_ sor-ahhh!”

Stiles words melted into a startled shriek as Derek lunged, pinning his mate to the floor beneath him. He could feel the fangs filling his mouth as he stared down at Stiles with eyes he was certain were burning red. _“Mine.” _He rumbled.

“Oh-kay.” Stiles breathed, his heart racing. He didn’t smell like fear, though, which pleased Derek. “You talking about me, or the alpha spark, big guy?”

Derek let out a sharp bark of laughter, then let his shift melt away. “Both.” He admitted easily. “I can still feel everyone, including Laura. We’re still pack.”

Stiles laughed breathlessly. “Because you’re _twins._ You’re able to rule a pack together, because you’re uniquely linked. You’ve been connected your whole lives. You shared a _womb._ You’re not meant to be alphas alone.”

“Except Mom always said Laura would inherit.”

Stiles’ head tipped the way it did when he was listening to Alluria, then he whispered. “You were meant to be a True Alpha.” The words made Derek’s head spin as Stiles continued. “Laura was meant to take Talia’s spark while you claimed your own. But because of everything with Paige, you lost that potential. It’s why Scott’s spark went right for you.”

The door to the loft flew open and Laura raced in, looking wild. She was beside him and Stiles in an instant. “You’re an alpha.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Derek snarked, rolling off Stiles and letting the Mage up.

“So we’re just both alphas now?” She demanded, sounding frantic. “And it’s not going to fuck up the pack dynamics or anything?”

Stiles shrugged. “We’ve met alpha-twins before, Laura. They actually shared a single alpha spark between them. You two each have your own, but you’re still twins. Alluria seems to think this is how it was meant to be.”

Laura laughed, looking relieved and delighted. “Awesome.” Then, she turned to Scott. “You’re human. I don’t...how’s that possible?”

Scott shrugged. “Stiles did it.”

“I’ve got his werewolf spark being held by Alluria.” Stiles admitted. “She was supposed to hold his alpha spark too, but it wanted Derek. So if someone wants to get wolfy, I’ll be able to change them. No bite necessary.”

“This is all really interesting.” Kira said softly. “But Scott should probably rest now that he’s a human again. I’m going to take him home.”

Laura moved to help her get Scott to his feet. “I’ll help you get him to the car. Come on.”

Derek watched them leave, then turned back to Stiles, eyes bleeding red again. “I really want to claim you right now. Alpha instincts.”

Stiles huffed in amusement. “What, like I’m going to object? Have at it, _alpha.”_ Derek was on him in an instant, Stiles’ delighted laughter echoing in his ears. He’d never been happier.


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh. Okay. So.
> 
> This is the end. I'm sorry that we've reached the ending, but also happy because it's been a lovely journey sharing this with you all and you've all given me such wonderful comments along the way. So thank you for reading, and for leaving me love in the comments, and for being willing to share in this story's journey.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this ((very short)) rounding out of the story. The epilogue isn't much, but I think it wraps things up nicely and packs just the right sort of punch. ^_^ 
> 
> Next week on Friday, I'll be posting a short one-shot Sterek piece of a completely different flavor, so feel free to check that out if it's your kind of thing, since you won't have an update on this story to look forward to. ^_~
> 
> ~ Sly

~*~Epilogue~*~

Stiles had to admit, sometimes things didn’t go anything like you’d planned and that was for the best. He laid down on the blankets spread beneath Alluria’s still-growing branches and stared up at the full moon peeking through them. After three years of growth, the Nemeton was an impressive size again. Not quite where she’d been, but that was only a matter of time. She sent love and comfort at him, and he soaked them both up like a sponge.

He could hear the pack as they ran through the trees surrounding the clearing. As a coyote, Malia’s yips were a higher pitch and readily discernible. Erica’s laughter was wild and free as she streaked across the clearing, Boyd a dark blur behind her. Cora and Peter were playing with Malia and Isaac’s daughter - a tiny little thing named _Ivy_ \- who had been born in the clearing a little over a year earlier.

That had been right around the time Stiles had opened _Sweet as Hale._ The bakery was thriving and it gave Stiles plenty of free time to work on pack things and his magic. It was good to be his own boss. A large black wolf flopped down beside him, jarring him from his thoughts, and Stiles reached out to card his fingers through its thick fur.

“Hey, Derek.” He murmured. He never had a problem telling Derek and Laura’s wolf forms apart, and he never had to cheat by looking under their skirts, so to speak. As Laura’s mate, Jordan could tell them apart, too. “You okay?”

Derek shifted back, unabashed in his nudity. “I was coming to ask you that.” He said softly. “The pain is getting worse.”

Stiles laughed softly. “It usually does. But I’m fine. Well-protected and everything, as you know.” He caught Derek’s hand in his, pressing a kiss to the alpha’s palm. “Go run with your pack. Alluria and I will call you when it’s time.”

“I won’t let anything happen to him.” Allison promised. Her armor - a mix of black Lycra and green-black lamia skin - hugged her slim, muscled body. She was armed to the teeth and looked capable of taking on the world. “He’s safe. That _is_ why I’m here.”

Because Stiles had called, and asked, and Allison had left her second-in-command in France in charge of things to spend a few months with Stiles, protecting him.

Derek nodded. “Okay. Call me if you need me.” He kissed Stiles’ mouth softly, then dropped a kiss to his swollen belly. “Love you. _Both_ of you.”

Alluria laughed in Stiles’ mind as Derek shifted and ran back into the trees. Stiles shushed her, a secret smile curving his own lips. Only Stiles and the Nemeton knew that he would be giving Derek _twins_ before the moon had set. Just like only they knew that Laura was newly pregnant as well. Staring up at the moon through Alluria’s branches, Stiles was content with a job well done.

The Hale pack was once again alive and well.

_ **~ The End ~** _


End file.
